#because one thing about me is i'm always going to make a connection to frozen pines lmao

[softpine]

Is this a safe space... I kind of don't get the Insidious joke? The post is funny but I'm also like ???

i think this was the first use of this meme format, but if not, it's still a good example of one

the movie insidious (2010) is about a child who falls into a mysterious coma after his family begins to notice strange ghostly happenings in their new home. they later find out that the kid is astral projecting (his soul is leaving his body and traveling to a different dimension, one populated only by the dead)

the joke i made is because this movie has a somewhat similar plot to frozen pines, which i never knew until i watched the movie the other day. but if we acknowledge that insidious exists as a movie in the frozen pines universe, we can imagine that caroline, beth, and danny might have seen insidious themselves, while their own son was also in an unexplainable coma with strange ghostly happenings around him. in which case, beth would dismiss it as fiction, danny would get a tiny bit paranoid, and caroline would be. as the meme states. zonked out of her gourd. therefore,

i hope that helps fjksjfds

[evilminji]

Okay, as I have mentioned, I'm Ace AF. And you know that plot line in kids cartoons where the alien or foreign Warrior Royalty just sort of *violently kicks down door in full armor* "We Will Marry."? I?? Always said:

"Sure!" (#OhThankFUCK!)

Like what do you mean "No"? The powerful, attractive, monarch that is very into you has travel a great distance JUST to marry you! Now you don't have to date! They seem nice! You can skip the whole "trying to find a life partner" awkwardness.

So, Sudden New Fiancee(tm) how we doing this? Blended customs? Two weddings? One in your peoples traditions, one in mine? Should we invite your family? Tell me more about yourself.

God, this solves just... SO MUCH for me? No having to make small talk. No "do they like me?" Or "am I reading the signs here right?" No failed dates! It's positively ideal! AND they announced why they were qualified, in a VERY impressive show of power and prestige, when they arrived! Good lineage AND accomplished!! Very nice.

Don't get why everyone's so upset.

Sure the "we leave at once" thing that usually follows would have to be discussed, but that's what you DO as spouses. Really guys, it's like you think I'm incapable of common sense here.

And you know who probably agrees with me? Damian Wayne.

Hell is other people, INDEED. You expect him to just... randomly go up to people and try Courting them? What do you MEAN it's "creepy" to compile portfolios on eligible individuals of worthy bloodlines? How ELSE is he supposed to know if they are worth attempting to talk too?!

There are BILLIONS of humans on this gods forsaken rock, Richard! Is he supposed to just GUESS? Gamble and hope for LUCK? This is a MARRIAGE not a "best friends club"!

Then? Danny showes up.

Gotham heard her baby talking. Heard her KING being harassed by clearly plotting Observants and power hungry ghosts MANY times his age. Connected some dots. Formed themselves a new OTP.

Danny says "Fuck It". Worst he can say is No. According to Gotham, he is neither Shy not the meek obedient sort. Is in fact, VERY stabby. So if he's not interested he'll no doubt be BRUTALLY clear about that.

So? Danny gets Fright Knight. Go get him a horse. Someone fetch Cujo some armor. He's been told the guy like weapons and animals.

TIME TO BE IMPRESSIVE.

He goes FULL Regalia. Armor of solid night sky. Cape of frost and stardust. Crown like crack in reality itself, through which the cosmos gleam and shift. He gets a horse from the far frozen. They're wooly and carnivorous. Gets THE most impressive sword he can find to wear.

It's gonna be a gift, since he doesn't need it.

He does the whole "rend the skies open" thing. Fan fair and knights. Every title he's ever been given, no matter how embarrassing he find them in reality. And announces his intentions. Declares that ONLY Damian Wayne, aka. Robin, is WORTHY to Marry Him. And (in the traditional Ghost proposal of "either accept or tell me to fuck off" /w violence) Demands Damian accept his offer of Marriage.

Right there.

IN THE WATCHTOWER.

In front of EVERYBODY. And yes, ESPECIALLY the Bats. Who are making glitching, vaguely threatening DEMONIC NOISES. Because? You... you THREATEN the BABY? Death. Ten thousand years DEATH.

People are :O ing and backing away from the visible heatwave of unadulterated FURY being put off by Batman. Danny is nano-second from every bone his ANCESTORS had being reduced to a fine paste.

Then? Damian consider him... considers the sword being thrust in his direction, still held aloft in a steady and armored hand... contemplates those titles for a second...

And goes: "Acceptable. Very well, but I have demands."

N..... Nani the FUCK? Says local Bat-Dad. No??? You are NOT GETTING MARRIED.

Try to stop him. He very obviously IS, according to Damian, the man brought him a kick ass sword and has a giant green dog. Is the king of an ENTIRE REALITY. Yes, he realizes he probably COULD do better... but frankly? This one's cute. But if it upset you so... extended engagement. There. Happy?

NO! Because the JLA Dark are LOSING THEIR SHIT. Damian is still UNDERAGE. We don't even know how OLD this being is! NO MARRIAGE.

Damian is unimpressed. A whole six months? That he's likely already LIVED thanks to various timeloops, temporal shenanigans, and reality warping bits of fuckery? You're reaching.

Just? Marriage Meet Cute.

@hdgnj @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

It was halfway through his shift the next day, just after he'd come back from lunch, that the anonymous tip came through. Dick had frozen when he heard it, but only slightly because the others were brushing it off as a prank call.

"'Blockbuster's after someone named Oracle,'" Officer Diaz had scoffed, "What a joke. Aren't kids supposed to know that their stupid prank calls clog the system? What if someone who actually had useful information had needed to call, huh?"

Dick didn't mention that that isn't how the tip system works, nor did he eve attempt to scold the officer for brushing it off, no matter how stupid it seemed. No, instead, he was stuck in his thoughts.

Blockbuster is after Oracle. Why is he after Oracle? It doesn't make sense! No one in Bludhaven, save for himself, should no who she is! Besides, he'd kept all of the attention on himself. No one was able to even think about the heroes or rogues in Gotham without him knowing! Or, so he'd thought. How does Blockbuster know Oracle's name? More importantly at the moment was who sent the tip.

There was another scoff from one of the others. Did he say that out loud? "Look, I know you're new and everything, but shouldn't you know the mean of 'anonymous'?"

He forced himself out of his head, rubbing his neck with his left hand with a fake smile. "Yeah, I do. I guess I'm just a bit out of it today."

"Well, get your head back in the game," Detective Soames snapped, hitting a file on the back of Dick's head, "File that for me, then file the rest on my desk."

"Yes, sir," Dick took the file, ignoring the snickers and snide remarks from his coworkers.

He knows he's not going to be able to fully focus on anything for the rest of the day, possibly not even until after he finds out who sent that tip and how Blockbuster knows Oracle's name.

Oracle. Dick knows she can handle herself, but he doesn't like the fact that anyone knows her name. Not even B knows about Oracle! Babs had spent so much time and energy keeping her online persona from B so that she could have at least something of her own that Dick had taken it upon himself to erase traces connecting him to Oracle. She didn't deserve to have Batman on her ass, nor did she deserve to have Nightwing's enemies go after her!

He shook himself back into the present with a soft sigh. He'll call Barbra as soon as he gets home.

***

"Danny!" Dick calls into the apartment, knowing full well that the kid is in the kitchen, "I'm home!"

"Welcome back," Danny responds from where he's standing at the stove. He, Dick realizes, does not sound happy.

He hangs his coat up on the hooks he installed beside the door, his shoes going on the rack below them. "You good? You sound a bit upset?"

"I am upset." Danny, after getting comfortable around him, has stopped sugar-coating his words, being brutally honest. Dick blinks. "I was going to message Tim, but I saw a lack of apologies from you."

Oh. Dick had meant to do what Danny said last night and apologise to that Tim kid for snapping at him, but he had been a lot more tired than usual and it had slipped his mind. "I was going to use my phone?"

"You don't have his number."

Another thing Dick had come to learn about Danny in the few weeks they'd been living together was that he can't be lied to. He somehow picks up on lies, so even Dick's best efforts - that have fooled even Batman! - are always thwarted.

"I meant to," Dick said, sitting on one of the new barstools at he island counter, "But I was really tired last night."

Danny sighed. "Because you were out longer than you're now used to." He turned the burner off, moving the pan to sit on the hotpad beside it. "You're body's gotten used to only being out for eight hours during the day and six hours at night. You going out for eight hours last night wore you out more than usual because you're no longer used to your seventeen hour work days."

Dick tilted his head, accepting the bowl of soup he was given. "But it's only been a few weeks?"

"It only takes eighteen days for your body to get used to a routine." He said, placing a bowl of homemade rolls on the island. "After about sixty-six days, it becomes habitual."

"But it hasn't been sixty-six days."

"No, but it has been twenty-one days."

He hesitated for a moment. "Has it really been only that long?" Then, "Have you been counting?"

Danny blushed, sitting beside Dick with his own bowl of soup. "I've been keeping track of your schedule, which means I gotta keep a calendar. I haven't been counting on purpose."

Dick smiled, eating the soup. As usual, it was really good. The first week of Danny's stay, he'd asked where he'd learned to cook, but Danny had given a non-answer, saying only that his parents couldn't make anything edible that wasn't fudge or cookies.

After they had both finished eating, Dick's portions and appetite being larger than Danny's because of the calories he burns as Nightwing, they settled into a nice quiet. Dick had changed from his uniform into sweats and a T-shirt while Danny had chosen a movie. Then, Dick cleaned up dinner and Danny changed into a hoodie and sweats.

"We still need to take you shopping," Dick pointed out when they were both sitting on the couch, ready to start the movie.

Danny shook his head. "Letting me stay here is already enough. Besides, your old clothes work perfectly fine."

"But you're room's so empty! And my clothes don't even fit you!"

There was a pause like Danny was thinking. Dick had the feeling he might not like whatever was going to be said next.

He was right.

"I'll let you take me shopping next week," Danny agreed, "if we go to Gotham tomorrow so that you can apologise to Tim in person."

Dick's jaw twitched. He didn't want to go to Gotham. Going to Gotham meant that he'd inevitably run into Bruce. He wanted to stay far away from that man.

Then again, he'd promised Alfred to come by some time. And, it'd be nice to see Barbra and Jim again. Maybe he could have Alfred make sure Bruce wouldn't be in the Manor?

"So?" Danny promted.

He sighed. "You're evil, y'know that?"

His grin said it all. "I could be so much worse."

"Please don't."

"Don't give me a reason."

Part 9 Part 11

[rainydayathogwarts]

Unregistered vehicle - Jim Hopper

summary: When Hopper interrupts a sleepover because of your unregistered vehicle, he is forced to take you to the station to complete some paperwork. wc: 2.3k+

Loud giggles on the other side of the front door have Hopper glancing down at his watch with a tired sigh. He could absolutely not deal with excited teenagers at this ungodly hour. The door swings open and you stand there with a wide smile. Clad in your tiny pyjama shorts and revealing tank top that allows everyone a view of your nipples, waving money in the air, you're clearly not expecting the Chief of Police to be standing at your door. Your hand drops down to your side and Hopper hears your disappointed mumble of "You're not the pizza guy." There's a long silence before your eyes widen and a quiet gasp leaves you. Quickly realising what you look like, you scramble to find a blanket or a jumper to cover yourself in, nearly slipping from the fluffy socks you're wearing before returning to the front door, with a hoodie halfway down your chest. It almost manages a smile out of Hopper. Almost.

"Chief!" You breathed out, smiling nervously. Hopper doesn’t know why you’re being so formal, the two of you were more than well acquainted with each other. "How can I help?" Hopper glances behind you into the unfamiliar house, where Nancy and Robin have paused their conversation to observe your interaction. He thought you lived on the other side of town, with your rich parents who leave the city every other week for business trips. Not here. Smiling ineptly at the two girls in the house, he turns his attention back to you. Nancy and Robin are frozen in place, and Hopper realises they are similarly styled to you. He's definitely more interested in your outfit than their's, taking a quick glance at what's exposed of your legs. He must have interrupted a sleepover. He sighs again. "Are your parents home?" You smile proudly, stating "There are no parents in this household, Chief." The man's eyebrows furrow. Tonight could not get more confusing. "What do you mean?"

You give him a moment to look around the inside of the small house. He's not surprised that there are no parents in the household, especially not yours. They'd probably have a heard attack if they saw this place. There's one couch in the living room, and your friends are sitting on a mattress that should probably be in the bedroom. The living room and open kitchen are completely bare, with the only other piece of furniture in the house being a television sat on the floor, connected to a single plug. Oh, and three glasses of wine and a half empty bottle. There's an open door leading to another room, where he can spot a few boxes strewn on the floor. "I've moved out. Want to join the housewarming party?" Hopper's face twists into one of confusion, and he asks "Isn't it dangerous for a young woman to be living all alone out here?" You shake your head with a 'nuh-uh' "Not all alone. It's me and Robin." You grin at the unfazed look on his face "Roomies!" Hopper reaches into his pocket to pull out a cigarette, lighting it up instantly. Your energy always makes him require a smoke, whether it be on a regular Tuesday night, or fighting demodogs with him in the woods.

"Well, there's a car outside that needs to be registered. I'm assuming that's you?" You nod sheepishly at the Chief's words. "I was going to do that first thing tomorrow morning, I swear... Jesus, it's warm in here." Hopper steps back as you quickly undo the covering up you had worried about so much, eyes widening when he finally gets to take a proper look at you. You look back to the girls in the room, pulling an annoyed face at them, and shut the door so that you're stood outside with Hopper. You cross your arms over your chest, looking up hopefully at the cop. "Well?" "I could fine you for this." You feel the blood drain from your face, and quickly throw your hands up, begging "No, come on Hopper! Do you know how expensive moving is? And having to- to get furniture!?"

The man in front of you laughs, nodding his head. "Look, if we go get it registered now, everything will be fine." He sees the way your face drops, an unimpressed look gracing your features. “Hop, come on. You know me! Can’t you just let it slide?” You whine, and for a second, the cop considers letting it go. But he’s already been too lenient with you in the past. "Won't even take thirty minutes and I won't fine you!" You make a show of throwing your head back with a groan before mumbling "Fine" and turning around to step into the house, sliding your feet into slippers, grabbing your jumper and following the Chief out your house without a single word to the girls in your living room.

The drive to the station is quick, the car filled with a comfortable silence. Hopper parks carelessly and you follow him outside, where he stomps his cigarette on the floor, and into the station. You're reaching to pull your jumper over your head when you notice how empty it is inside. You don't bother with your hoodie, holding it limply at your side, walking into the near empty station and into the Chief's office. Sitting down on a chair in front of Hopper's desk, you slip your feet out of your slippers, pulling your feet up on the chair and hugging your legs close to your chest. Hopper sits at his desk, opening and closing random drawers. You hear the shuffle of papers and rest your chin on your hand, watching lazily as he finally pulls out some very official looking paperwork.

Hopper begins scrawling things down on the paper and you stand up, rounding his desk to watch what he’s writing over his shoulder. One of your hands rests on Hopper’s big shoulder, the other one laid flat on the desk. You squint, unable to read his messy hand writing. “Okay!” Hopper announces, turning his chair to look up at you when he freezes. His eyes widen, and he takes his time looking over your revealing attire. “Sweetheart, you’re gonna freeze.” You shake your head, mumbling an “It’s fine.” and gesturing to your hoodie, but Hopper has already stood up, removing his sheriff’s jacket to sling it over your shoulder. He guides your arms into the big sleeves, ensuring your warmth before turning back towards the paperwork.

“Ooh, stylish.” You giggle, catching your reflection in the office window. You spin around, hands sunken in the pockets, and Hopper huffs at the sight, trying to hide his amusement. “Jesus, come… y/n, come sit down!” You mumble something under your breath, and begin approaching him again. Hopper raises an eyebrow at you when you stand next to him, gesturing for him to move his chair back. He listens, and is about to stand up, making a comment about ‘young audacity’, but instead, you plant yourself straight on his lap. Hopper’s eyes go wide, and his hands fly up as he tries to make sense of the situation.

You hum, leaning forward to read through the papers in front of you and your ass pushes back just right against Hopper’s cock. The older man nearly groans, but he holds himself back, listening closely as you ask “So what do I need to fill out?” Hopper gulps loudly, leaning forward to point specific slots out on the sheets of paper in front of you. You don’t hold back the grin on your face, hearing the shake in the man’s voice. “Here, license plate. Fuck, please tell me you know your license plate.” Hopper begs, both hands coming down to grip your hips. You make sure to ground them down in his lap, feeling the way his cock impossibly hardens underneath you. Hopper doesn’t bother trying to hide his grunt this time, his hips bucking up into you.

The unexpected movement had a surprised moan leaving your lips, and you feel Hopper’s chest vibrate with a deep laugh. “How’d you like that when it’s done to you?” He asks teasingly, but is brought to silence when you reply with an almost pornographic moan of “Oh god, so much.”

“Fuck, I knew these pyjamas were doing something to me.” ”That why you’re so desperate to cover me up, huh?”

You shoot back, grinding your hips down even harder on Hopper’s cock. “Shit, okay, that’s enough.” He finally exclaims, gripping both your hips and lifting you up slightly, a sign for you to get up. You squeak, spinning around to face the solemn faced officer. Shit, what if you had crossed a line? But those thoughts are immediately put to rest when Hopper stands up, pushing you back so you stumble against his desk, his big hand coming to cradle the back of your head as he brings you into a kiss.

Your reaction is immediate — melting against his chest as a loud moan rips out of yours. You grip his tie, desperately trying to bring him closer to you. Hopper breaks the kiss, mumbling against your skin “Your friends are going to get suspicious if you’re gone for long.” But you only throw your arms over his shoulders, bringing his body closer to yours as you respond with “My friends are drunk Hop.” The man laughs, accepting the kiss you bring him into. One of his feet kicks your legs open and you gasp, mouth opening just enough to let Hopper slide his tongue into your mouth. Hopper’s hand moves from the back of your head and down your front, snaking into your pyjama shorts to feel around for your wetness. “Shit. We haven’t even done anything yet.” He teases, and you scoff, saying “I can say the same for you, soldier.”

Hopper huffs, watching as you cackle in front of him at your stupid comeback. He doesn’t ask before pulling your short down, making you gasp, eyes worriedly shooting straight to the glass windows and doors of the Chief’s office. “Lay back.” Hopper orders you, nodding towards his desk. You swallow thickly, hopping on his desk before laying down, your legs hanging over the edge of the table. Hopper carefully places the newly signed paperwork in one of his drawers before mindfully folding your legs up so your feet can rest on the edge of his desk. He quickly makes work of his belt, pushing his trousers and boxers down just enough for him to take his cock out.

Hopper grips your hips, experimentally thrusting his hips forward so that his dick brushes against your sensitive cunt. You gasp, watching the older man’s every move. He grins, meeting your gaze to wink at you, finally gripping his cock and lining himself up with your entrance. You whimper when he thrusts into you slowly, eyes glued on where his hips are pushing into you. Similarly, Hopper’s gaze is fixed on his cock stretching your pussy out, watching as your arousal engulfs his cock before dribbling out of your hole. “Oh yeah” Hopper whispers, more so to himself as he begins setting a pace that immediately has you moaning. “Oh god!” You cry, hands looking for anything to grip. Not finding anything to hold, they start trailing down your body until one of them lands on your clit, rubbing tight circles, the other one pinching at your nipples. Hopper curses loudly at the sight, increasing the power of each and every thrust into you.

Objects on the desk rattle with the power of each thrust, and a pen holder falls off the desk, causing a dozen of pens and pencils to go rolling on the floor. You moan loudly, thighs beginning to shake as pleasure shoots up your abdomen. “Yeah, that’s good.” Hopper praises as your pussy clamps down on his cock. He embraces the sight of you in his police jacket, and just the mere thought that it’s going to smell like you afterwards is enough to bring him closer to his orgasm. Hopper bottoms out with each thrust, his balls smacking against the skin of your ass. He pulls out all the way until just the tip is in before slamming all the way back in as hard as he can, which has you crying out due to his generous size, back arching against the cold wood of the desk.

Hopper’s hands move from your hips to your knees, which he uses to push your legs closer to your chest, leaning his body weight on your legs as he continues thrusting into you. The new angle has your head reeling, and one of your hands eagerly comes up to grip his wrist, as though that will bring you closer to your orgasm. You begin squirming at the stimulation, but Hopper only drills into you harder — it’s the least he can do with his pace slowing down. “Fuck you’re so needy. Pussy fucking swallowing my cock.” He grunts, watching as your pussy squeezes him in. It seems his words have a positive effect on you because you’re suddenly seeing white, back arching as your soul is brought to a different dimension.

You pussy flutters around Hopper’s cock, and he’s immediately halting inside you, thick ropes of cum painting your insides white. You gasp, back arching, and Hopper exhales deeply, gently releasing pressure off your legs, which flop tiredly on his desk, your entire body feeling exhausted. Hopper pulls out, and you hear the rattle of his belt as he makes himself modest again. You jump at the feeling of wet tissues on your cunt, looking up to find Hopper staring down at you worriedly. “Sorry kiddo. You okay down there?” You hum, nodding lazily and putting your hands up so that he can help you sit up. You tuck yourself deeper into Hopper’s jacket, hoping he’ll let you take it home, and it seems he reads your mind because when he pulls your shorts back up, he stands there for a moment smiling at you before finally saying:

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

[oreolemur]

Yandere Short Story- Megumi Fushiguro

Murdering your lover, Megumi stood in front of you emotionless. "Don't look at me like that", he said, walking towards you. You stared at the bloody knife in his hands as you backed away. "M-Megumi? I thought we were friends", you said. "Friends?" the man scoffed before giving a cold chuckle. "We're much more than that. You and I are connected in a way that can never be broken. I murdered him because he kept getting in the way of our love." He takes a step closer to you, a twisted grin forming on his face. "Please put the knife down", you begged. "Or what? Are you going to run away from me? I killed him for us and instead of telling me how much you appreciate my gesture, you act like I'm the bad guy. How do you expect me to feel, huh?" Megumi said angrily, his eyes locked onto yours. 

Your back hit the wall. "Please don't", you cried, dropping to your knees. Megumi approached and knelt down, placing his hand on your cheek.  He leaned closer, his cold green eyes looking into yours. "Tell me you love me," he whispered. "I know you do, deep down, so say it.". He brushed his fingers across your cheek, waiting for your response. You shook your head, "I-I can't", you cried even more. Megumi sighed in disappointment before grabbing you by the throat, his fingers wrapping tightly around your neck. "You're just like everyone else, always saying things that don't match your true feelings. You know you love me and yet you lie to me. Why is it so hard for you to admit?" He leaned in and whispered into your ear. "I'll give you a choice...say you love me or else". You grabbed his hand, attempting to pull it off.

The man chuckled, tightening his grip around your throat. "Ah-ah-ah, don't fight it. You're making this much harder than it needs to be," he said, his voice low and menacing. "Just say the three little words”. Your vision started to become blurry. "I...love you". Megumi smirked, his eyes lighting up at your words. He slowly loosened his grip on your throat, allowing you to breathe again. "Was that so hard, bunny?" he teased. "Now, I want you to prove it to me. Show me how much you mean those words." He forced you to your feet, handing you the knife. Megumi pointed at your lover's body. "Cut his head off", he whispered. You stared at the lifeless body, your heart beating rapidly. You hesitated, but Megumi's hand on your shoulder compelled you to move. As you approached the corpse, you stood over your dead boyfriend, sobbing. "My love", you whined. Megumi's cold breath sent shivers down your spine as he whispered into your ear, "He doesn't deserve your tears. He never loved you as much as I do. This is just the beginning of our love story, bunny”. 

You held the knife tightly as you were frozen. "I can't". The man sighed in annoyance, his patience wearing thin. "You're really testing my limits. I thought you said you loved me. Do you doubt my feelings for you? Fine. If you can't do it, then let me help you." As he reached for the knife, a spark flared in your eyes. Megumi held your arm firmly, forcing it near your lover's neck. "Stop! No!", you screamed, feeling the knife cut through your boyfriend's throat. "Good girl. See? I knew you loved me more." He whispered into your ear, watching you cut off your boyfriend's head. "Now, can't you admit that you're in love with me? No one will break us apart." He chuckled, placing kisses along your neck. "Your love for me is deeper than any love you've ever felt. That's why I chose you. You're the only one I trust." 

Once the job was done, you dropped the knife. "Why would you make me do that?", you asked, eyes filled with shock. "Why? Simple. We're destined to be together and your love belongs solely to me now," he said, gently brushing a strand of hair out of your face. "I did it for us. Don't you see? Your love, your soul, everything about you belongs to me now. There's no going back now, bunny. You're mine." He chuckled softly before wrapping his arms around you, holding you tightly against his chest. "Let go of me!", you shouted, pushing him away. You ran into the bedroom, locking the door behind you. 

He sighed in annoyance, kicking the bedroom door hard. "You can't hide from me, bunny. You know I love you more than anything in this world." He said through the door, his voice low and firm. "But don't think locking that door will stop me. I'll break it down if I have to”. You moved away from the door, heading towards the window. "Open damnit", you gritted. As you tried opening it, you noticed it was locked. Megumi had already planned ahead, determined to keep you under his control. "Don't bother trying to escape through there." His firm voice echoed from behind the door. "You're mine, bunny. You're not going anywhere”.  The sound of Megumi's banging became more frantic as he desperately wanted to get in. You looked all over the room, searching for a tool to use to break the window.

You spotted a sturdy lamp on the bedside table. With determination, you picked it up and threw it hard against the window, shattering the glass. However, before you could fully escape, a loud crash filled the room as the bedroom door gave way. Standing in the doorway, Megumi's gaze fixated on you fiercely. "You foolish girl, did you really think you could escape from me?".  As you tried to escape, Megumi leaped forward, grabbing your ankle. He dragged you back into the room, his grip tight and unyielding. "You're not going anywhere. You're mine," he growls, pinning you down on the bed. "You'll never run from our love”. You tried to fight back, "Leave me alone!", you shouted. "You're crazy!". 

Despite your resistance, he held you firmly in place.  "You say I'm crazy? Maybe I am, but only because I'm madly in love with you. I'd do anything for you, bunny. Can't you understand that?" He leaned closer, his breath grazing your skin. "You're driving me insane. All I want is to keep you close, forever. You can't resist this connection we share”. Megumi got off you, flipping you over onto your stomach. He pinned your arms behind your back as he pulled your pants down. You felt his hard cock through his jeans. Your body squirmed all over the place. “Stop moving”, Megumi demanded. You ignored his order, not giving up. 

The more you moved, the more your ass came in contact with his boner. The man’s face reddened. He loved the way your ass jiggled against his pelvis. You heard the buckling of his belt. “Megumi, please”, you begged. He pulled down his pants, resting his cock on your plumped ass. The man slowly jerked himself off. “You don’t realize how much I love you”, he groaned. He rubbed his cock against your wet folds, forcing himself inside. You gasped at the stretch. Megumi gently inserted all of his length into you. “Fuck”, he whispered. With one hard thrust, he slammed his hips into you. “Ow”, you whimpered. He grabbed hold of your hair, making you raise up just enough for him to speak beside your ear. “Tell me you love me”, he said. You kept quiet, being too distracted by him fucking you. 

Megumi yanked your head back again. “Say it, bunny”, he said. “Tell me you love me”. The pain from the hair pulling made you speak. “I…love…you”, you said between each thrust he gave you. The man pushed you back onto the mattress. Megumi placed his palm in the center of your back, pinning you down again. He fucked you harder, making sure that you took every inch of him. Your walls clenched around his dick as he slid in and out of you. Your voice was high pitched as you moaned into the sheets. “M-Megumi”, you whined. Your cries went unheard as he pumped his cock into you at a faster pace. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he fucked his orgasm out. “I want you to carry my kids”, he groaned, spilling his seed into you. Megumi pulled out of you, leaving a trail of cum to leak out of your pussy. He turned you on your back, grabbing your face.  He pressed his lips against yours, then whispered into your ear. “Aren’t you glad he’s dead?”.

[kitnjon]

I would love if you could recommend some newer modern Jonsa fics!!!!

Hi anon, Sure! Some modern AU's I am reading/read this year

You tend the ash, and I’ll tend the pine by @eruherdiriel

“Are we really never gonna talk about it?” Arya snaps. “We’re all gonna pretend everything is normal and happy when Sansa just got divorced?” “Statistically, it is normal,” Bran says. “The divorce rate is something like—” “It’s not normal! Not for this family, and not for Sansa. True love, forever and always, that’s Sansa.” “Jon isn’t the person she married,” Catelyn chides. “Not anymore.” — Sansa and Jon get divorced, but fully untangling their lives is impossible.

2. all eyes on us by @theshipshipper

Sansa is one of the biggest popstars on the planet, Jon is among the top streamers in Westeros -- and the internet goes wild when their well-hidden connection is uncovered.

3. frozen pines by @cellsshapedlikestars

It hits Jon, then - the sharp smell of ozone. A scent that years ago, he’d become all too familiar with. The aftermath of a lightning strike, the burning of wires. Electricity heavy in the air. The hair on his arms still stands on end. The scar on his hand feels tight. His heart is still pounding. It’s just a storm coming, he tells himself. He’s in White Harbor, not Eastwatch. It’s just a storm. or, the Exclusion Zone spreads for the first time in almost fifty years, with Sansa trapped inside. Jon will do whatever it takes to get her out.

4. tell me, what's the perfect time? by @prclainivrysteel

"I'm Jon," he reaches out for a handshake, "I probably should've led with that." "Yeah, probably," she replies, fighting against the goofy-looking smile that threatens to take over her face, "I'm Sansa." She slips her hand into his. His fingers are calloused, but the way he touches her is gentle. The cold press of his rings sends a pleasant shudder down Sansa's body, making her toes tingle. Jon softly repeats her name. The tips of his ears are red, most likely from the chilly, September winds. He looks away for a brief moment, as if gathering his thoughts, before meeting her gaze once more. "That’s pretty."

5. how she died by @cellsshapedlikestars

She's buried on a cold, dreary day in late January. That’s all Jon can seem to think about at the funeral. It’s too cold, the sky is too grey. Bleak and barren; there isn’t even snow. It’s an inane, intrusive thought. It could rain, at least, he thinks. The sky should weep for her. The universe should mourn. It doesn’t make sense. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t understand why anyone would murder Sansa Stark.

6. i'm on fire by @cellsshapedlikestars

“Okay,” she says, voice shaking. “I’ll do it. I’ll order an escort.” “Are you sure?” Randa asks, eyes wide like she doesn’t think Sansa is. It only makes Sansa’s teeth grind together. “Yes, I’m sure,” she grits out. If Harry wants an open relationship, she’s going to give it to him.

7. trojan horse by @cellsshapedlikestars

He’s only known her for an hour, but he’s pretty sure he’s in love with her.

8. Attorney–Client Privilege by @kit-kat21

No one in her family had ever done this before. Her parents were true soulmates. Sansa hated to admit that she partially blamed them for giving her such high expectations of marriage and love. Her brother and his wife, Jeyne (Westerling), had just celebrated their twelfth wedding anniversary. None of her grandparents, aunts or uncles had ever been divorced. Sansa Stark was the first in her whole family to have this distinct honor. So there was no one she could ask for help or advice. When she told her parents that she wanted to file first, Ned and Catelyn did what they did with all of their children when one of them came to them. They dove right in and helped the best they could. Googling divorce lawyers seemed to be the only thing they could do and from there, they read reviews because just like restaurants and hair salons, divorce lawyers were online-reviewed, too.

9. snow angels by @kingsansa

He finds, as the hairs on the back of his neck rise, as his heart completely fucking nosedives, that her voice is lower than he remembers, but unmistakable all of the same. Sansa Stark stands in the hallway of his shitty, hole-in-the-wall, egregiously outdated bar; unmistakable.

10. Later Nights by @justadram

Her husband, Jon Snow, might be in his off-season--blessedly. But with the Summer Olympics around the corner, her late-night Olympic show producer, Tyrion Lannister, hasn't forgotten about the unlikely Team USA star and their recording-setting ratings in 2022. He has his sights set on a triumphant rematch between the newlyweds any way he can get it.

11. We Run the Gamut (Let's Run Away) by @hilarychuff

Boy and girl meet. Live parallel lives. And, one day, they start to come together. Scenes inspired by all the different types of love for the Jonsa Valentine's Day Event 2024.

12. Touch me, I’m going to scream by @eruherdiriel

He’s one building away when he sees her—auburn hair in two neat French braids, a grey peacoat on, and hands in green fleece gloves holding a shopping bag that looks heavy. Sansa Stark is walking up the steps of the triple-decker, leaving a sleek, black sedan idling by the curb. Flustered, Jon jogs the rest of the way and reaches the steps just as Sansa raises a hand to ring the buzzer. “Hey,” he says, and she stops her motion. When she turns to him, Sansa’s eyes go wide. “Are you all right?” — Jon and Sansa—how touch evolves between them over the years.

[bedtimegiraffe]

I finally figured out why all the party members in Book 2 come out as so frustratingly self-focused to me.

It's not because they're all struggling with their own stuff. It's all about shelving your agenda- that thing in a relationship where you go, 'You need my support right now, so we're going to worry about my thing later.'

And MC does this constantly.

I just barely escaped death and found out a year passed, but is Kade recovered from the Shadow Court?

I just almost drowned, but it's time to comfort this owlbear cub and unpack Valax's trauma!

I just almost died twice to the Ash Empress, but is Nia coping with being corrupted okay?

Which can be okay. Shelving your agenda is part of a healthy relationship of any kind.

The problem is that no one does it back. I think Tyril and Nia kind of sum up the whole group's attitude:

But I don't think MC was ever going to be 'ready.' Someone else was always going to have to 'unshelve' it for them and make an effort to put the focus on MC.

Now, adventurers don't tend to be particularly well adjusted people. The full party has got maybe 1.5 healthy childhoods and 4 living parents between them (judged pretty generously). But it still feels like the others can't get it together enough to ask if MC is okay. Not that MC really makes it easy! I see MC as someone who is so used to pushing their feelings down to focus on whatever work is in front of them, they almost can't access their own emotions.

Which is why we had the brief glimpses of panic and the breakdown moment in Chapter 17. I think the breakdown makes sense mechanically. Kade is the one character your MC is guaranteed to have a strong connection to and this way it's not gated behind any diamond choices (like some really crucial character moments with Aerin and Valax, no I'm not bitter about it). But that makes it feel like the whole party has been neglecting MC while Kade immediately sees MC and goes, "Dude, you are not okay. Talk to me.'

And MC tries to turn it into comforting Kade! Kade has to actively argue with MC to make them actually acknowledge that they're having a hard time.

MC for some reason can't or won't talk about their own trauma and Kade (who's only been around for 5 minutes) is the one who has to actively force the issue for MC's own good. Which is not a great look for the rest of the found family.

Afterward, Mal and Nia both seem to address it without really getting the point. Mal says, "We know things didn't go the way any of us wanted." (Which could mean... anything. But I'm feeling generous.)

Protecting MC from death is not an equivalent exchange to talking about feelings! It is in fact dodging the feelings by focusing on practicalities again! Y'all better get it together in Book 3, I swear.

Overall, MC constantly delays addressing their own vulnerability and issues to focus on everyone else. And the others don't know how to do the same thing for MC, so the pattern just gets more engrained and damaging.

Except for Kade, my perfect boy.

Sources (they're fun, I promise!):

Screenshots from Neckrone Shen's playthroughs of Blades on YouTube, my go-to for whenever I can't remember something or don't have the screenshots myself.

I think @oh-so-youre-a-nerd's incredible piece 'Take Take Take' kept rattling around in my head until I figured out how to articulate why it felt this way: https://www.tumblr.com/oh-so-youre-a-nerd/736449955360899072/take-take-take?source=share

The language of 'shelving your agenda' came from the very good Cinema Therapy video about Kristoff from Frozen:

[biblicallyaccuratecrow]

rambling about songs my brain associates with isat (pt. 1)

[woe, spoilers be upon ye!]

i have a 250+ song isat playlist. I am unhealthily obsessed with finding new songs to put in it. Here's a few that make me go absolutely batshit insane.

I've already rambled about this one on my art account a while back, but this song is so insanely loop-coded....

I'm standing on a stage Of fear and self-doubt It's a hollow play, But they'll clap anyway

You could give me any song that has some kind of reference to plays or theatre and I could probably find a way to make it about isat. but specifically this makes me think about twohats and how loop views their place in the world as a performance, a pawn, not even a character but a plot device... yeah

I'm living in an age That calls darkness light Though my language is dead Still the shapes fill my head I'm living in an age Whose name I don't know Though the fear keeps me moving, Still my heart beats so slow

I probably don't have to break this one down for you, but yeah, Island North of Vaugarde, the forgotten language... "still the shapes fill my head" has always in my mind referenced the stars and constellations, and how they're familiar but foreign...

-

thanks to @/ricecaqes and their trust ceremony animatic, this song lives in my head rent free. Even just as a whole this song is SO isat for me. literally from the first fucking lines:

Will I know when I’ve gone too far? Or frozen myself in time? An impossible brain with impossible wants Lost and astray, with impossible thoughts

like. it really can't get much more nail on the head than that?

then you got this:

So cold, I’m freezing Every piece of praise and sign that I’m believed in Solid in a crystal ball It bends the waves of the light to mend the rest of my life

and literally the first time I heard this song i paused it and said, out loud, "OH FUCK." Because. it's act 5 siffrin. Like, the slow descent into despair followed by the determination that the only way to perserve the life and the family they love is to keep them with him, to do the exact same thing the king did...

Do you also see your future starting with the farthest part? Live your life to close the space between the end and start And when it’s hard, do you hang onto any chance That you might be in control? That you’re the one who owns

For one, once you reach the end of act 2, you're constantly aware of the head housemaiden being as far as you can go, and then you're planning around it the entire time.

And then, you have. siffrin grasping for any kind of control they can have over the situation, desperately. and failing repeatedly because they simultaneously think that they are undeserving of getting what they ultimately want... yeah...

i won't go into the rest of the lyrics because honestly it's pretty well covered by the animatic but. yeah trust ceremony my sweet beloved.

-

rest in peace siffrin no middle no last name, you would have loved the mountain goats.

yeah uh. this one is also pretty high up on songs that make me go "damn that's siffrin alright".

I am this great, unstable mass of blood and foam And no one in her right mind would make my home her home My heart's an autoclave

i think for me it's the idea of siffrin feeling like they're nothing, and even if they are something or someone, they are bad, worse than bad, worthless. also referencing homesickness.... yeah...

When I try to open up to you I get completely lost Houses swallowed by the earth, windows thick with frost And I reach deep down within, but the pathways twist and turn And there's no light anywhere, and nothing left to burn

I mean, this one is also pretty self-evident. siffrin losing hope while being stuck in the house... wanting to connect with the party but being completely uncapable of doing so out of the sheer terror of being left behind... act 5, with the house literally warping...

I dreamt that I was perched atop a throne of human skulls On a cliff above the ocean, howling wind and shrieking seagulls And the dream went on forever, one single static frame Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name

siffrin feels responsible for the loops, every aspect of them. their deaths, their party-member's deaths, their failures, everything. and in the end, all they really wanted was for someone to truly see them? to have a family, to not be left behind and forgotten by the world.... the importance of names and siffrin's name in particular in the story also makes this hit home for me.

-

for brevity's sake i'll just start with these three- if people are interested in hearing me justify my insane music choices i'll probably do more.... for now, see ya!

[nemo-in-wonderland]

"I guess it goes to show, does it not? That we've no idea what we've got until we lose it And no amount of love will keep it around If we don't choose it And I don't know what's got its teeth in me But I'm about to bite back in anger No amount of self-sought fury Will bring back the glory of innocence

My, my, those eyes like fire I'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre Come now, bite through these wires I'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired Reset my patient violence along both lines of a pathway higher Grow back your sharpest teeth, you know my desire

I have traveled far beyond the path of reason Take me back to Eden Take me back to Eden"

"Take Me Back To Eden" - Sleep Token

You remember how, the other day, I wrote about how Aranea would eventually meet her demise a few centuries after the events of BG3?

Well, you know that with me, angst and fluff go hands in hands, so I wanted to draw the moment Mephisto found Aranea, mere moments before she is to pass. And he knows that she is going to pass, because he already can feel her soul drawn to himself, reaching for him, as part of their contract. So, before this happens, he brought her to the small garden of rocky trees and crystals that he created for her when she joined him in Cania and became his consort.

As for HOW Aranea has met her end, I like to imagine that it was always her desire for revenge that got her, and her inability to let go of grudges just lead her to a poor decision that, eventually, brought to her demise.

Her grudge against the Dream Guardian, who he was, and how he tricked her into taking her late husband form, was something that Aranea NEVER forgot nor forgive. It was something done deliberately, something that brought her excruciating pain (born out of hope and longing) even if her frozen heart was already in Mephisto's hands, and she could never look past it, not even if the Dream Guardian was the reason she didn't become an Illithid.

So, after the events of Baldur's Gate, she would go her way to find him again, with all the intent to make him pay for what he did (I know, I know, the retribution might be disproportionate, but considering that this happened after Aranea spent a whole century reaping souls for Mephisto, her morals are a tad skewed).

So, considering that the reason for Aranea's death is once more connected to the reason why she sought Mephistopheles' help in the first place, I decided to go down the symbolic route, and give her a garment that resembled the one she had the first time she invoked Mephisto, in a sort of cruel irony.

As for who is taunting Mephisto...well.👀👀👀👀 (but gods, I loved drawing Mephisto so pissed, if anything because drawing all sort of strong emotions is truly a treat for me eheheh).

BUT BUT BUT. This is just one outcome, and not even the canonical one! You know how all the characters have different endings in BG3?? Same thing applies to Aranea as well, I promise! THERE IS PLENTY OF AU WHERE SHE IS ALIVE AND WELL, WREAKING CHAOS ALL AROUND THE NINE HELLS (and Faerun as well lolol), and to be honest, my most favourite outcome among them all. I *live* for a trickster immortal fiend, Consort of Mephisto lolol. (plus, while I explore various possibilities, in my brain all my characters are alive forever, lolol)

AND FOR NOW I AM DONE WITH THE ANGST, I PROMISE.

I promise that the next artwork with Aranea and Mephisto will be a JOYOUS one (fluff? SMLUFF? who knows, but it will completely devoid of Angst. Only 100% Pure Smluff of Certified Origin lololol).

WELL, I HOPE YOU WILL LIKE THIS.

--Nemo

[strnilolover]

BFF!Reader x BFF!Matt Sturniolo (Best friends to lovers)

Warnings: very slight suggestive (like non-existent), small mention of death, a little bit of heartbreak, fluff

A/N: This is in the readers Pov and matts! pink is the reader; blue is matt and the purple at the bottom is basically both of them. @her-favorite told me to post this cause why the hell not lol. I absolutely love friends to lovers' tropes, but I have never tried to write anything about them SO if this sucks I'm sorry :,)

———————————————————————

“The day we met. Frozen, I held my breath. Right from the start I knew that I found a home. For my heart beats fast. Colors and promises.”

The day that I had met him, it felt like my whole world had stopped. Those hypnotic blue eyes held me captive, burying my soul so far in them it felt like home. We did everything together, promising things to one another that we knew could probably never be. But that’s what made our world feel more alive, that’s what made it feel so bright.

“How to be brave. How can I love when I’m afraid to fall?”

I never plucked up the courage to tell him, even when I had the chance to. It felt like a joke, that if I were to become vulnerable for just a moment, everything we had built would come crumbling down in a heartbeat. So I locked it in a cage, tossing the key far away, hoping maybe one day I could get it back.

“Watching you stand alone. All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow. One step closer.”

But, as my eyes watched him, standing in the pouring rain after his girlfriend broke up with him. Coming to me first before anyone else, spoke to me on another level words couldn’t explain. So I took my chance, stepping closer to his soaked frame. Grabbing his face, pulling it closer to my own as I connected our lips in a small wet kiss.

“I have died everyday waiting for you. Darling, don’t be afraid I have loved you for a thousand years. I’ll love you for a thousand more.”

His lips molded to mine in return. Grabbing my hips and pulling me closer as his frame pushed through my front door. He was hesitant at first, like I was doing this out of pity. But the way my lips moved against his, sloppy and desperate, told him otherwise. The cage opened after I promised to keep it locked so many years ago.

“Time stands still. Beauty and all she is. I will be brave. I will not let anything take away. What’s standing in front of me. Every breath, every hour has come to this.”

She was breathtaking. Her frame standing in front of me as the rain poured over my body. I didn’t know who else to go to, her being the first one that popped into my mind as everything crumbled around me. I told her she left me, and she looked at me, those beautiful orbs full of pity and sadness. She stepped to me, grabbing my face and putting her lips to mine, eyes wide, I kissed back. Grabbing her hips hesitantly as I pushed my way through the door to her home. I thought this was because she felt bad, but as she kissed me harder, I knew it wasn’t.

“One step closer. I have died everyday waiting for you. Darling, don’t be afraid I have loved you for a thousand years. I’ll love you for a thousand more.”

I pulled her closer to me as she tried to pull away. Holding her to my wet body, whispering how much I loved her and how I always have. She grabbed me back, whispering the same confessions to me as her eyes looked into mine. Smiling, I kissed her again. Our bodies slowly making their way to her room as our clothes were disregarded on the floor, tangling our limbs in her sheets for the rest of the night.

“Time has brought your heart to me I have loved you for a thousand years. I’ll love you for a thousand more.”

We felt like one finally. Our missing pieces find their places in all the missing spots. We spent the rest of our lives together, finding comfort in one another until our bodies were laid to rest. Even in the afterlife, we loved each other for a thousand years.

———————————————————————

[mammalsofaction]

39

39. Perryshmirtz kissing as....time runs out

From the prompt list here.

Sugar, we're going down swingin'

Rating: T

Relationship: Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus

Add tags: Angst, ambiguous ending, human Perry the Platypus, OWCA Files AU, PTSD flashbacks

A/N: Bit of a cliche but I loved getting to stretch my minute made writing muscles again. I considered a fluffy alt but I know Lex loves a bit of grief in her morning coffee.

Canon compliant to my Human Perry lore. Eve had been his sister (Ferb's biological mother), who died in the line of action about 12 years ago here.

---

There was something to be said, Perry thinks, of panicking.

(Every sound rang clear as crystal, as murky as dirt. He can feel his own pulse beating beneath his skin like every artery connected straight to his heart. It’s almost tranquil.

We've been here before.)

"Agent P," Harry yelled. It's difficult to hear over the sound of falling rubble, and the blaring alarms resonating through the inside of the volcano, and through the sheer rushing of blood through his ears. "Please, we need to leave!"

"Perry?" Heinz whispered. Perry looks up to him then, numbed of all feeling, save for the bleeding wound on his hip, stinging enough to remind him that he was, at least, still alive. He's looking up, he's staring, but he's not quite seeing. Perhaps physically, they were all trapped inside the lair of an alchemist madman, set to collapse above his head any minute, and to be fair it is all terribly exciting. But Perry was, in truth, bearing down a steel doorframe of an old warehouse stinking of gunpowder, dust and sweat, cradling two small bodies against himself, praying for the mercy of a God he doesn't believe in for a few minutes he could no longer afford 20 years ago.

"Can you walk?" Heinz asked. Right, yes, because he'd asked that question too, that fateful night of fire and gunpowder. What had Eve said to him then?

I can fight. He signed, and he pushes himself off, handing over the briefcase containing what they'd all come here for. The evidence, the antidote, the killing blow. Go, I'll catch up.

(He'd thought about what she'd said, there, in hindsight. He thinks it was meant to be funny. That was how she defaulted to things, on account of Perry not having a single humerous bone in his body, in stark comparison. She was the good cop.

We'd learned to fight before we'd learned how to walk, that was what she always said. There was pride in that, to mask the sadness underneath.)

The henchbots kick against the hinges of the only door holding them back, and bolts come flying. It won't be too long now. Heinz had frozen, briefcase pressed into his chest as he stares a bit dumbly at how Perry attempts to hold himself up, checking the ammo of his guns, so Perry gives him a little push to emphasize his point. He catches Perry's outstretched hand, instead.

"You can't be serious." He hissed, and Perry shook his head. "Come on."

There was only one pod left out of here, and Karen and Maggie had taken the only other one. Between their bulk, the briefcase, and the sheer speed they had to push for in order to make the gate closing any minute now, Perry would only slow them down.

Go, Perry said, and for a second his guard comes crashing down. His hand trembles, pressed against the side of his chest, and it is closest he'll ever get to a wobbly lip. Please?

"You-," Heinz said, but with one mighty kick the door finally bangs open under the assault of manic steel feet. Heinz flinched, but Perry opened fire, trigger finger cool and steady. Two simple headshots. He had 5 bullets left, and a mob to deal with.

"Guys, come on!"

"I'm not leaving you here." Heinz hissed, the grip on Perry's wrist almost crushing. "We're leaving together, or I'm not going anywhere, you hear me?"

Oh.

Oh, Heinz.

As rubble falls and crushes the control panel of the exit gates behind them, and the echo of a dozen feet barrels down the corridor, Perry tugs him closer, and their lips meet like an electric shock, still every bit of a thrill as the first. He feels it tingle right down to the tips of his toes, and slick swipe of his tongue down on Heinz's bottom lip like a promise.

They part with a gentle smacking sound, breathing the same air. Perry wants to remember this. He wants to leave on a good note.

"Perry," Heinz chokes, either on dust or on his own heart. "What do you-,"

I'll catch up. Perry lies, and presses on the trigger for the grappling hook on his belt. Heinz grunts, wide eyed, as it latches on the exit way of the foyer, right next to Harry himself, and Perry treats himself to one last look of his baby blue eyes wide open in fury as it pulls him back hip first.

5 bullets. Perry uses one of them to shoot a hairline fracture down the side of the wall, and the support beam keeping the lighting features aloft gives up the ghost. No way out. No way back in.

"Counting down, lair self destruct." The robotic overhead intercom announces, pleasant and calm. "T minus 10 seconds."

"Trespasser located." The henchbots declare, stepping into the foyer, falling apart. Perhaps one of them. Perhaps a bunch of them at once. He can hardly tell--blood seeps down his side in rivulets, and his head feels heavier by the minute. The edges of his vision begins to blur, and he can't quite tell what's up from down.

But Perry's got a gun in a steady hand, and he's got 4 bullets.

"Resistance is futile." The bots warn, the last of their cogs whirring. It's all appropriately dramatic.

Perry grins.

[rainbowmoonstonestories]

Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 18

Chapters: 18/? Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix 2022, minor content from the Comics) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F!Reader  Characters: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus, Lucienne, Matthew the Raven, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Hob Gadling, Death, Rose Walker, The Corinthian, other minor Sandman characters, Original Characters. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching, very long chapters to read. Summary: You always dreamed of becoming a successful Fashion Designer, sharing your creations with the world and making your father proud. But with him being very ill and so many costs solely weighting on your shoulders, things didn’t go as planned and you had to take a different path instead. An interesting offer led you to the elder Alex Burgess and you were hired as a new housemaid for a very good pay. However, your kindness and outstanding empathy convinced the man to give you an additional task for a doubled compensation; gaining the trust of Dream Of the Endless, held captive into the basement for over a century. Despite the shock of finding such an ethereal entity stripped of all his clothes and contained into a confined space, you had to accept for the sake of your father. But the more you got to speak to the mysterious anthropomorphic personification who didn’t utter a single word, the more you were lost into his eyes that, conversely, seemed to contain the entire universe. A deep connection formed between the two of you, separated only by a thick layer of glass.

Little did you know, what started like a simple housemaid job was about to change your life forever.

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics

Tagging: @number-0-iz, @emarich7, @jaziona92. If anyone else wants to be tagged in the next updates, let me know! I noticed that Tumblr sometimes won't let me tag everyone for some unknown reason, so if it comes to that I can at least send you a message to notify you.

You can also read this on AO3 if you feel more comfortable!

While on one hand your work in Cape Kennedy was progressing without any hiccup, the situation with the Vortex was beginning to escalate and deteriorate at a very alarming rate. But there was only so much that you, as a mere mortal, could do to assist.

The Corinthian lounged in his chair, his unsettlingly perfect smile unwavering as he examined you through his disconcerting, mirrored sunglasses. You stayed as motionless as a still lake, frozen and unflinching, with your heart pounding intensely in your chest.

Even though fear engulfed you and the Nightmare instilled a chilling sense of dread, you were determined not to present yourself as vulnerable or an easy prey.

"Well, look who we have here," he remarked, settling comfortably and flashing his trademark grin. "Do you remember me?”

"Naturally," you replied, your tone distant and firm. "Thanks for the drink, but I must admit I'm not really into the Black Russian Cocktail.”

He let out a chuckle, seemingly entertained by your biting response. "Ah, such a shame. I thought it might be to your taste,” he said, his voice silky, laced with feigned charm. "But I assure you, I'm not just here to buy you a drink. In fact, I'm more interested in...conversation.”

A shiver coursed down your spine, but you held your stance, your hand reaching for the Moonstone necklace as a form of support. "What do you want, Corinthian?" you questioned, managing to keep your voice steady despite the terror simmering within you.

His grin broadened at the mention of his name. "Straight to the point. I like that.”

He leaned slightly forward, cautious not to breach the invisible protective barrier that the necklace symbolized. "I just happened to be in the area and saw a familiar face. It's always nice to catch up with old acquaintances.”

You narrowed your eyes, not letting his nonchalant demeanor fool you. "Acquaintances? Is that what we are now? Because the last time we met, I didn't even know your name.”

The Corinthian shrugged, pretending indifference. "Names are overrated. It's what lies beneath that's truly interesting. Speaking of which,” His gaze shifted to the pendant in your hand. "That's a beautiful Dreamstone you're wearing there.”

As an entity crafted by Morpheus himself, you speculated it would be easy for him to sense his master's essence residing in the stone. The crystal had not yet shone any light, but it likely wouldn't trigger as long as a secure distance was maintained.

Given his aim to stay under the radar, it was certainly unthinkable to do anything that might catch Morpheus' attention.

Despite this, you were not ready to lower your defenses. You gripped the pendant tighter, your knuckles whitening, until you were overpowered by a terrible uncertainty.

The pendant housed Morpheus' energy, the identical one he employed to craft his subjects. All of them, Dreams and Nightmares alike, including the Corinthian. Would it even function against that creature, or was it destined to stay inactive in the presence of its creator's power?

However, understanding Morpheus as you did, you figured that he wouldn't leave anything to chance.

"You stay away from me," you warned, your voice low but fervent.

He lifted his hands in a mocking gesture of surrender. "Easy there. I'm not looking for trouble. Just a friendly chat. After all, it's not every day you run into someone who's so... special."

His tone bordered on teasing, but underneath it lurked a layer of menace.

You shot him a stern look, your heart maintaining its rapid pace. "Why are you really here?”

The Corinthian's smile remained, but a spark of irritation flickered across his face. "Let's just say I'm here on business. But you, my dear, seem to have stumbled into something far bigger than you realize. I wonder...do you even know what you're protecting yourself from?”

You offered no response, your silence serving as a testament to your fear and resolve.

The Corinthian reclined again, his expression contemplative. "You know, the Dreaming is a fascinating place. Full of wonders and horrors alike. It's a shame, really, that some of us can't ever truly escape it.”

Your fingers traced the contours of the Moonstone, deriving fortitude from Morpheus' gift.

You looked intently at him, your jaw set rigidly. "You were meant to stay. The Waking World is not the place for you.”

The Corinthian chuckled with a predatory glint that seemed to emerge on the dark lenses. “Ah, but the Waking World is so much more entertaining. So many unsuspecting souls, so many dreams to twist and shatter. The Dreaming can be quite confining, don’t you think?”

"You're playing a dangerous game here. You know that sooner or later he's going to find you, right?”

He laughed once more, a sound lacking any semblance of mirth. "Oh, but I have plans, my dear. Grand plans. And they don't include being sent back to the Dreaming like a misbehaving pet.”

His presence was deeply disturbing, stirring an urge in you to eradicate him instantly. It would be so easy; you had the means to inform Morpheus, to signal him that his nightmare had reappeared before your eyes. Yet, despite your impulse to act, you were held back by the bustling public scene, brimming with humans immersed in their own lives.

“Dreams are fragile things. And even the most powerful can crumble under the right pressure.”

You swallowed hard. "Be that as it may, you can't hide from your master forever.”

"That won't be necessary.”

At that moment, the suspicion began to creep into your mind that he was not only aware of the forming Vortex, but also harbored intentions of exploiting Rose for his own gain. Perhaps that could provide an explanation for the persistent feeling in your gut.

Alternatively, it could be your paranoia casting a cloud over your perception, and his presence in Cape Kennedy might not be related to the girl at all. However, his hints towards a grandiose scheme were undeniable, and whatever he was plotting, it was improbable that it would result in anything remotely beneficial.

Your phone began to vibrate and ring on the table, breaking the tense silence yet escalating your alertness. Andrew's name lit up on the screen, and despite your strong desire to extricate yourself from that situation, your body didn’t budge.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?”

Your eyes blazed with defiance. "Just so we’re clear, I won't let you harm anyone. Especially not him.”

It was a daring move on your part. What could a mere mortal such as yourself, lacking any supernatural abilities and unaware of this Nightmare's true potential, realistically hope to achieve against such monster?

“We’ll see about that.”

The Corinthian maintained his malevolent smirk, as he rose from his chair and smoothed out his jacket. The ringing of your phone ceased, the screen going dark. "Well, it's been delightful catching up, but I must be going. Places to be, people to see, dreams to corrupt. You know how it is.”

He made a motion to leave, but then halted, casting a glance over his shoulder. "Oh, and one more thing. Give my regards to Dream. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again very soon.”

Your blood ran cold as he continued speaking, gradually advancing towards the door.

“Enjoy your stay in Cape Kennedy, sweetheart. And remember, nightmares can follow you anywhere.”

With that, the Corinthian vanished into the bustle of the street, leaving you in solitude at the bar, your thoughts spiraling out of control.

You exhaled a prolonged, trembling breath of relief as soon as you found yourself alone at the table, your fingers finally releasing their grip on the Dreamstone. The fact that he left you entirely untouched, without even attempting to lay a finger on you, could signify a multitude of possibilities. Was he planning to toy with you a bit longer before erasing your existence from this world? Did he have intentions of annihilating the entire human race, you included, all in one sweep?

When your phone rang again, you jumped in your seat. You allowed the call to continue for a few more seconds, swallowing down your anxiety and only answering it when you were certain you could muster up your voice.

"Andrew, hi.”

"Oh, Y/N, you answered! I'm nearly there.”

"Yeah, I inadvertently left my phone on silent," you feigned. "I'm on my way.”

"Oh hey, is everything alright? You sound strange...”

Apparently, you weren't very good at concealing it.

"I'm fine! Just a bit tired, it seems the jet lag is really taking a toll on me now.”

Fortunately, Andrew seemed to accept your excuse. "Ah yes, of course! Sorry for having you run around like this.”

You swiftly settled the bill for your drink, leaving the undesirable Black Russian Cocktail abandoned on the table. "No need to apologize, I came here specifically for this.”

"Yeah, but I'm not in any hurry at the moment. So if you need to take things slower, just let me know, okay?”

You smiled, exiting the bar and crossing the street, breathing in the refreshing salty air. "Of course, but don't worry!”

"Right. I've just arrived. Are you nearby?”

"Yes, literally five minutes away.”

"Great! I'll hang up now, see you in a moment!”

As you slipped your phone back into your bag, you were taken by a sudden wave of calm and contentment, simply from Andrew's display of kindness and concern. Given the extremely negative energy you had absorbed from the Corinthian, the positivity radiating from your newly-acquired friend served to completely dispel the Nightmare's impact on you.

Nevertheless, the situation was not to be underestimated. Even though Morpheus might have been unaware, the possibility of his own creation plotting to obliterate not just the Dreaming but also the Waking World was a grave matter. It was vital that he be apprised of the looming threats he was up against.

Unfortunately, given his perpetual sense of duty, there was a fear that this revelation might exacerbate his self-blame. The notion of you coming across the Corinthian in London had already caused him significant distress, to the extent that you were fearful of his reaction to finding out that the Nightmare had, in essence, posed an indirect threat to you.

No, it was preferable to keep this information to yourself for the time being. Having a line of communication with the King of Dreams, you had the capability to reach out and converse with him if the need arose. Thus, as you spotted Andrew awaiting you on the most picturesque beach of Cape Kennedy, you made a silent pledge to yourself to monitor Rose as closely as possible, ensuring that no harm would befall the girl and, by extension, all of you.

Andrew couldn't have come up with a better idea. He intended for you to experience the magnificence of Cape Kennedy up close, guiding you on one of the most serene strolls you'd ever taken in your life. The melody of the sea was enchanting, the sky was unblemished, and the ocean was astoundingly beautiful. Owing to the Beach Land that was a frequent destination in your dreams, you had cultivated a deep fondness for the ocean.

Once again, he transported you back to his quarters for a thorough work assessment and outline. Charlotte was even more ebullient than the previous day, welcoming you with a warm hug and presenting another tray of fresh beverages and snacks, which you gladly accepted. Andrew had already given his approval to your drafts and the requested modifications, so technically, a large part of your job was already completed. What Andrew sought from you now was counsel on the overall presentations, along with guidance regarding the advertising strategy.

You were so immersed in the task at hand, surrounded by stacks of papers as you both scribbled notes and laid out plans on your laptops, that time slipped away unnoticed. Dinner had come and gone in what felt like an instant, the sky transitioning from daylight to a dark canvas speckled with twinkling stars amidst your ongoing conversations.

As the day came to a close, Andrew drove you back to Hal's B&B, suggesting you get some rest before the next briefing. A tranquil night was upon you, underscored by the calming whispers of rustling leaves and cricket melodies.

Yet, you couldn't shake off the feeling that something could emerge from the shadows unexpectedly at any moment.

Your footsteps reverberated along the pathway leading to the front door. As you pushed it open, the sound of Hal's voice drifted from nearby.

“There’s not much to do in Cape Kennedy after dark. Or during the day for that matter.”

You stopped in your tracks. His voice resonated with an unmistakable undertone of exhaustion and defeat.

“That’s kinda what I like about it,” Rose retorted in response. “I was thinking, maybe I should move back.”

“Why? To do what?”

The tone of Hal's inquiry made his disapproval abundantly clear.

“I don’t know. Before my mom died, I was gonna go to grad school… and try to become a writer.”

Nonetheless, Rose appeared unperturbed and relaxed, exuding an air of tranquility.

“But maybe it’s like you and New York.”

“God. I hope not.”

“No, I mean, your life is here,” she corrected. “You have this house, people who love you. You’ve got Dolly.”

You generally refrained from eavesdropping, but you felt that interrupting at that juncture would be incredibly inappropriate. Thus, you remained standing outside, right before the slightly open door.

“Rose, do you think I wanna be here? Cleaning after Barbie and Ken? Don’t get me wrong, I love them, they’re great. But if Broadway called tomorrow, I would sell this fucking house.”

The palpable sorrow in his voice touched a nerve. You had experienced similar sentiments once, longing to discard everything you had in pursuit of the fulfilling life you aspired to lead.

“And I would never think about any of these people ever again.”

There was a pause, followed by Hal's voice resuming once again.

“Go to grad school, write a novel… about me, but do it now while I’m still cute enough to play myself in the movie.”

Rose's soft chuckle was barely audible, but the joy it conveyed was unmistakable. It mirrored the enjoyment you felt, prompting a quiet smile to spread across your face.

“’Cause this, was never my dream.”

Soon after, Rose withdrew to the room she shared with Lyta to turn in for the night. Hal continued to clean up the area, the sound of glasses clinking against each other echoing throughout the room. Truth be told, you were keen to have a one-on-one chat with the girl as you hadn't yet gotten a proper chance to explain your encounter. But in that moment, you felt an overwhelming urge to give Hal some words of support, a growing desire in your heart that you simply couldn't overlook.

At last, you walked inside, gently closing the door behind you and advancing towards Hal, who was gathering the last vestiges of the drinks the others had left behind. Catching sight of you, he performed a graceful twirl and greeted you with a smile as radiant as the sun.

"Hi! I haven’t seen you all day. Has your work with Andrew been keeping you on your toes?”

"Somewhat, but things are progressing quite well," you responded.

"Oh, I'm certain. With your talent and his qualities, I can only anticipate the best.”

Shadowing his movements, you nervously bit your lower lip. "Speaking of talent, I couldn't help but overhear your exchange with Rose.”

Hal halted, clutching the empty tray in his hands. "Well, it was just, you know, something I needed to get out of my chest.”

You nodded in understanding. "We need that sometimes. But allow me to remind you that you already have everything you need within your grasp.”

He let out a sigh. "If only, my dear.”

"No, I'm serious. Maybe I don't have the right to say this, given we just met yesterday. And I understand this might sound like empty encouragement from someone who doesn't fully get your struggle. But you are so much more than this life you're discontented with.”

He had already talked about his aspirations with you - his dream to take center stage in Broadway's grandest shows, to become a celebrated star whose name would be remembered by all. Observing how his present life was constricting him, you felt an irresistible need to emulate your mother and extend as much consolation as you could.

You were no deity, no monarch of dreams. But he was a reflection of your past self and everything that persona embodied. Though you understood you were not your mother, you were at least confident in knowing the right words to express.

Hal's shoulders sagged and the new smile he offered was imbued with sadness and resignation. "Y/N, you're so kind to say that. But do you really think anyone would consider a Drag like me?”

"Hal, I witnessed your performance last night. Your voice is spectacular, and your stage presence was so mesmerizing that I couldn’t even blink while watching you.”

"Thanks, darling, But that won't exactly open the doors to Broadway for me.”

You shook your head in disagreement. "You don’t know that.”

He persisted in his skepticism, his countenance marked by desolation, as he found it impossible to conceive a more promising future for himself. You couldn't simply stand by and accept his surrender to circumstances.

“I mean, look at me. I am a living testament to how a life that once felt riddled with misery can transform into everything you've ever dreamed of.”

"Yes, and I love having you here right now. But I'm not like you, Y/N. All I can do is wait and hope that this endless cycle will take a different direction. Rather sooner than later.”

His pessimism didn't surprise you. After all, there was a time when you too were unwilling to believe in the possibility of betterment, bracing for nothing but disaster despite your father's and Hob's efforts to help you see things from a different angle.

"Or, you could cultivate this talent of yours and follow your dreams. Don't let it go to waste, you truly deserve to shine,” you said, giving his arm a gentle squeeze.

At that moment, something unusual occurred. A warmth emanated from your heart, appearing to radiate along his sleeve. Hal's face transitioned into one filled with wonder and surprise, staring at you as if he'd just seen a miracle unfold right before his eyes.

"Hal, you have your own individuality that defines who you are now, and also who you can become if you don’t give up.”

This time, he seemed to contemplate it, diverting his gaze and pursing his lips. "You do have a unique flair for words, don't you?” he noted, breaking into another bright smile and letting out a profound sigh.

He wasn't the first to compliment your communication skills, which evidently played a significant role in your professional success.

Still, you couldn't help but feel that it wasn't merely a perk you had acquired, but more so a family trait that you had inherited from birth.

"I try, at least.”

"Keep doing that, and you'll go really far in life.”

You chuckled, releasing him and slipping off your jacket. Somehow, as soon as you moved away, it felt like the enchantment had shattered, returning the atmosphere to its prior, ordinary state.

“Just give it some thought,” you suggested.

"Oh, I will. Maybe a good dream will stir some inspiration tonight.”

As you approached the stairs, gradually ascending the first few steps, you flashed a playful yet sincere wink in his direction. "Dreams have the power to do just that.”

If only he, or anyone else for that matter, could comprehend the depth of that truth. If only they could marvel at the wonders that the King of Dreams could bestow upon each one of them, had they dared to ask.

How had the mortal realm managed to endure an entire century devoid of the Dreaming? How had you navigated through countless silent, barren, desolate nights?

However, the elements within the dream realm could be as breathtaking as they were daunting. There were beings as mighty as the Corinthian, who had transformed what was meant to merely mirror humanity's deepest fears into a tangible nightmare in the Waking World.

Upon finding the plush comfort of your bed, you attempted to expunge all traces of those convoluted emotions from your gut. As you drifted off to sleep, you could only wish to find yourself enveloped by the dream figures you held so dear, all except Morpheus who, much to your chagrin, was preoccupied with the quest to locate his Dream and Nightmares.

One of which was tremendously close to all of you in the mortal realm.

As you leisurely strolled along the beach, your father's hand in yours, your younger self dipped her toes into the moist sand along the shoreline. You felt incredibly small and unburdened, reminiscent of the times you used to visit the seaside many years ago. The beach was tranquil, with no one else in sight, just you and your father gathering exquisite seashells and breathing in the refreshing air.

"Be careful there," he teased. "Or else you'll run out of space in that bucket.”

"I can't help myself," you replied cheerfully. "There are so many seashells, I want to collect them all.”

"This really is the best place in the world, innit?”

You nodded emphatically. "Of course it is, we're in the Dreaming.”

It was fascinating how a part of you maintained awareness, while another part seemed to have been transported back to the innocence and simplicity of your childhood.

"Beautiful. Simply beautiful," he observed.

The day was idyllic, reflecting the splendor of the dreamworld. You watched your small fingers digging into the damp sand, extracting more seashells and stones, each one glittering under the sun like a precious jewel.

But it was not reality, it was merely an illusion, a façade on the verge of shattering before your eyes.

Suddenly, a distant rumbling echoed in the sky, a sound that wasn't a novel occurrence.

"What was that?”

Your father appeared completely unconcerned, disregarding the approaching roar entirely. "Mh? What are you referring to, darling?”

“That sound.”

"What sound? All I can hear is the ocean.”

You stopped, causing your father to pause his strides as well. With the bucket's handle clenched tightly in your small fist, you focused on discerning the subtle noises in your surroundings.

Indeed, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, leading you to conclude that what you had heard was merely conjured by your imagination.

Until a colossal fissure, which jolted the entire landscape, emerged in the sand, a hair's breadth away from your father's feet.

"Dad!" You cried out. "We need to get away from here, now!”

“Mh? Whatever do you mean?”

With a trembling index finger, you pointed towards the ominous crack. Despite your frantic warning, he continued to smile - a wide, almost terrifying grin that you had never seen before.

You released his hand, the bucket falling to the ground. "You're not real. None of this is. It's all just a dream,” you repeated to yourself.

"Is that so? Well, I suppose I can't let you leave now.”

What on earth?!

You started to retreat, but he made no move to follow. Your dream father stood there, statue-like, tilting his head and staring at you with an utterly blank expression. You could feel the chaos mounting in you, the urgency to flee and awaken. The crack continued its course, spreading around your father like tree roots.

Paralyzed, you could only watch the horrifying scene unfold in front of you. The sky turned ominously dark and the ocean receded, only to rise again and form a gigantic wave. It towered over you, threatening to crash down imminently.

And then, a hand clamped down onto your shoulder, compelling you to pivot around. Your face, no longer that of a child, was reflected in the Corinthian's round black lenses.

“Give my regards to Dream. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again v͔̠ͬ͝e͕̰̥̦̐ͥͪ̇̓͊ͭ͊ͧ̏̕͢r̵̡͕͕̮͉͙̯̅̇̄ͣ̊̑y̲̼͋͐̓ͅ s̱̭͔̪̩̳̜̹͕̹̩͙̙̪̗̤ͮ̊ͥ̏ͮ͋́͗ͧ̐̽͘͜͟͝͠ͅǫ̷̷̛̙̫̞̳̮͆̒͐̐ͯ͛͡ǫ̙ṇ̵̆ͬ̓͘_̛̬̣̻͙̐̅ͥ̓ͪ̃_̵̶̝̣̝̈̆ͣ̍̉.”

His voice echoed all around you, reverberating in your ears and becoming distorted. The tidal wave crashed, engulfing everything in its path and wiping it all away. You were caught in a maelstrom, spinning uncontrollably, gasping for breath in the underwater whirlwind.

Awakening with a jolt, you kicked off the covers and sat bolt upright, pressing your back against the pillow. Panting, anxious and disoriented, you looked around to anchor yourself and dispel the remnants of your dream hung in the air, creating hypnagogic illusions of shadowy figures and wavering walls. It took a moment of deep, calming breaths and a run of your fingers through your tousled hair to bring your racing heart back to its normal rhythm.

Morpheus was absent, and the idea of slipping back into slumber was out of the question for now. You sprang to your feet, slipped into your cozy slippers, and draped a long open cardigan over your pajamas. A hot cup of tea, you thought, might just be the remedy to calm your frazzled nerves and restore your sense of lucidity.

Making an effort to keep the noise low, you stepped out of your room and gingerly made your way down the dimly lit hallway. You arrived at the main staircase, cautiously descending, with one hand instinctively placed on your chest where the feeling of water filling your lungs persisted.

Distractedly, you moved forward, and the light turned on in the dining room immediatly piqued your curiosity. The table was decorated with a tray full of traditional British biscuits, and a hot teapot was perched on it. A hefty figure was seated in front of the nocturnal treat, humming contentedly while relishing it.

“Gilbert?”

“Oh, hello Miss Y/N! What are you doing up at this hour?”

You smiled, observing his apparent fondness for his cane, which he seemed to carry with him wherever he went.

"I can't fall asleep," you answered. "What about you?”

"I was reading, lost track of time again. I brewed a spot of Chamomile, fancy a cup yourself?”

Given the state your nightmare had put you in, the prospect of a calming cup of Chamomile tea indeed seemed heavenly.

“Yes, please," you agreed. "I would appreciate that.”

"But of course! Would you mind having a sit? I’ll be right back.”

His warm and courteous manners always uplifted your spirits. Even the way he carried himself was full of grace and poise.

The soft sound of him rummaging through the cupboard reached your ears as he pulled out a vacant mug from the kitchen. Upon his return, he presented you with some of his biscuits with a sincere smile, and you felt like a spoiled child in need of a sweet snack to alleviate the tension. Had he possibly discerned your distress?

“Do you often make tea in the middle of the night?” You asked.

The corners of his lips curled upward even more, his mustache following the movement. “Old habits, I suppose. There's something comforting about it, don't you think?”

“Yeah. It reminds me of home.”

Gilbert sat down beside you, spooning a generous amount of sugar into his cup, now promptly refilled. "Feeling a touch of homesickness, are you?”

"Oh, it's more about the folks I hold dear back there. You know, family, friends.”

Gilbert savored a new sip of his Chamomile, licking his dampened lips and appreciating the warm brew. "And a dashing young chap too, perhaps?”

You held back a chuckle, finding "young chap" to be a rather amusing term for someone of Morpheus' stature.

"Let's say there is, in some sense.”

"Splendid. I won’t pry then.”

You truly pondered where this man originated from with his old-world sophistication.

The warmth of the beverage slid down your throat, finally dispelling that dreadful feeling of suffocation. "I love reading, too. It's unfortunate that I no longer have enough time to dedicate to it, but I’m passionate about my job."

"Yes, I did catch a few snippets. You work in the fashion industry, don't you?”

"That's correct. I'm a Fashion Designer, so I handle all aspects of the creative process and general promotion.”

Gilbert cast his gaze downwards, seemingly deep in contemplation. "Creative, that's marvellous. You know, it reminds me of someone I used to know a while back.”

“Really? Someone special?”

"Ah, my dear. He was the very heart of the place I hail from.”

"He’s not anymore?”

Gilbert grew nostalgic. "Oh no, he is. He'd been away for a very long time, you see. Without him, my homeland lost its essence. I left because I wanted to... embark on new experiences, I would say.”

You had a multitude of questions, but given your limited familiarity with the man, you didn't want to overstep any boundaries. You hypothesized that he originated from a quaint English town, and the person he spoke so warmly about was possibly a revered clergyman or a commoner cherished by many.

"Do you plan on returning?" You asked.

"Eventually, yes. I never intended to leave my place, I simply... needed to explore… more of this world.”

His explanation was notably vague, giving you the sense that he was carefully choosing his words to sidestep other topics he seemed less eager to discuss.

But ultimately, that was just a part of his charm.

"I understand. Thank you for sharing, Gilbert.”

"A pleasure, Miss Y/N.”

As you both continued to enjoy the Chamomile and savor the tasty biscuits he had provided, a momentary silence fell between you. Oddly enough, it didn't feel awkward or uncomfortable; instead, it nurtured a feeling of closeness. His presence was soothing, organic, and serene. You could faintly detect an aroma of damp moss and lush greenery emanating from him, along with hints of apples, sea ozone, musk and sandalwood.

Even though you were indoors, your mind was conjuring up the image of a lush green oasis. Unknown to you, the dreadful thoughts of your nightmare had entirely faded from your consciousness.

That was, until he posed the subsequent question, interrupting your mental imagery.

"You said you can’t fall asleep. Is something troubling you, my dear?”

Setting your mug aside, you aligned your back more straight against your chair. "I woke up from a nightmare earlier. It was quite unsettling.”

"Oh dear," he expressed. “Are you all right?”

"To be honest, I’m a little worried about something. But I can’t tell if my feelings are warranted, or if I'm just making everything more complex than it needs to be.”

Gilbert lapsed into a thoughtful silence again, absentmindedly twirling the spoon in his tea.

"Dreams can reveal a fair bit about your-" he cleared his throat. "-our own selves. Our worries, longings, even our darkest truths. They can be quite revealing, in their own cryptic manner.”

For some reason, he seemed to possess knowledge far beyond what any typical human being should. But considering the significant time he spent engrossed in books, his extensive cultural understanding was not surprising to you.

"It's weird, isn't it? Dreams can manifest the most beautiful visions one could ever see, yet sometimes, they can be so frightful that they make you want to never fall asleep again.”

He guffawed. "I've seen my fair share of unusual dreams. Each one is a journey, wouldn't you agree?”

You, more than anyone else, could attest to the spectacular travels one could undertake through their dreams.

But those very dreams you loved deeply, those realms and magical constructs, if not the Dreaming as a whole, were seemingly endangered by a force equally formidable.

As unsettling as the nightmare had been, you couldn't let it deter you from delving into your subconscious mind.

“I do, actually. It’s a little tough, though.”

"Isn't it just? This world's a grand old place, my dear. Just as many marvels to be found as there are true horrors to behold.”

You bobbed your head in agreement, gazing at the remnants of your Chamomile. "You're so right Gilbert. I wish I could remove a thing or two from my memory.”

"I daresay. But isn't that also part of what makes you... well, human?”

His point held weight, considering the lessons you had acquired over the years. All those hardships, all the adversities you had to surmount. Even Morpheus confined to that cage, isolated, insulted, and forgotten. Had you not witnessed all that, you would have entirely overlooked his existence, and inevitably lost the opportunity to understand what it meant to love and be loved by him.

Every fear, all the concerns, all the wonderings and questions. They all contributed to your growth and shaped who you wanted to become.

"Thanks, Gilbert," you voiced softly, "I really like talking to you.”

"Absolute pleasure, Y/N. Whenever you fancy a chat, I'm here to lend an ear.”

Having finished the Chamomile and nibbled the last crumb of your biscuits, you gathered the empty mugs and plates onto the tray. Gilbert generously offered his help, which you politely declined, allowing him to retreat to his attic for some rest (or to indulge in more reading).

You let the water run at the bare minimum, washing the mugs and plates with utmost care. You returned everything to its proper place, gently closing the cupboard's door to preserve the quiet. Gilbert's footsteps were soft and deliberate, until the surroundings became so silent that you couldn't hear a fly.

It was still early, and you didn't know how long Morpheus would take to conduct his investigation. All you could wish for was that no hindrances had appeared in his way.

As you slid back under the covers and settled onto the mattress, you grabbed your phone and plugged in your earbuds. You swiped across the screen, rifling through your saved playlists until you found the specific track you were looking for.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒙𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑺𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒄 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑨𝒏𝒙𝒊𝒆𝒕𝒚 𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒇

You used to play these melodies when contending with your chronic insomnia, and even if they weren't particularly helpful at the time, you still cherished the calming sounds they produced. And so, you pressed the play button, adjusting the volume to a moderate level, getting yourself comfortable and closing your eyes.

The soft music echoed in your ears like liquid gold. You felt weightless and cleansed, as if the bed had vanished beneath you. When sleep claimed you once more, you felt comforted and at peace, journeying through a variety of pleasant dreams.

The fact that you had no pressing obligations the following day was a stroke of good luck, for when morning arrived, you were still blissfully asleep in your bed. The Dreaming appeared to be just as it always was, granting you unrestricted exploration. You took a serene stroll in the most beautiful meadow you had ever seen, crossed a forest bathed in hues of pinks and reds, and even engaged in conversation with a chatty deer you encountered along the way. At times, the things appearing around you looked odd and somewhat nonsensical, but it didn't particularly bother you.

And then, you were enveloped in a sea of stars, to the extent that you found yourself traversing an actual galaxy. Even though you were walking, you couldn't see any physical ground under your feet.

You weren't sure of your destination, but the energy pulsating through the paradisiacal landscape motivated you to continue, and you simply couldn't resist the call. The dress you wore, so lengthy that it trailed behind you like a royal gown, was imbued with the brilliance of stars and the swirling cosmos.

All that stunning beauty made your thoughts drift towards Morpheus, and you realized how much you longed to see him again.

Distant voices began to form and resonate from the far end of the nebula, where a powerful blue light flashed and expanded. You quickened your pace, walking briskly, until the light became almost blinding, compelling you to raise your hands in front of your face.

And it was fortunate that you did, because a few moments later, you collided with something hard and icy, as solid as marble.

The galactic spectacle had completely dissolved, replaced by a radiant blue fog that began to thin out and dissipate. The pillar in front of you obstructed your view, but it didn't take long for you to recognize the castle's throne room.

How were you able to locate that place again without Morpheus’ explicit invitation?

And then, you recalled his earlier words, assuring you that you were always welcome in his castle. Could it be that this had inherently given you unlimited access to it?

“Do you have any idea what his life is like in the Waking World?”

A woman was speaking, but you couldn't identify her.

“Humans cannot live in dreams.”

Morpheus.

“As long as he stayed there, the child had no life. Nor the chance for one.”

Sensing that you were amidst something significant, you moved your body slightly to the side to survey the unfolding scene. Morpheus, as handsome and majestic as ever, stood a few steps above Lucienne and another figure, a well-defined woman who was clearly far from human. Her skin was dark, akin to a desaturated purple, adorned with fuchsia streaks that pulsed like faint lightning. Her entire body seemed alive, displaying a kaleidoscopic effect that resembled liquid shadows.

“The boy is being abused,” the creature stated. “He’s suffering.”

“You abused that suffering,” Morpheus counteracted. “To build a Dreaming you could rule.”

And then it struck you, the realization that the non-human figure was one of the Dreams Morpheus had been trying to find. Or, to be more precise, one of his Nightmares.

“I had no wish to rule.”

She didn't seem terrifying to you. Even her appearance, while peculiar and potentially intimidating, was actually quite enchanting to look at.

Unlike the Corinthian, which was ironic considering that he bore more resemblance to a man than anything else.

“I merely wish to be a Dream and not a Nightmare. To inspire rather than to freighten.”

The nightmare was seething with anger, filled with pain and grudge against her master.

Lucienne was attentively listening, without uttering a word.

“The choice is not yours to make,” Morpheus responded, calm and unyielding. “We do not choose to be created. Nor do we choose how we are made.”

His statement stirred thoughts in your head. Did he ever contemplate why he came into this universe, the purpose of his birth, his initial creation? Did he ever consider being someone else, something else, instead of perpetually fulfilling his role as the King of the Dreaming?

“That is true,” affirmed the Nightmare with a smirk. “But we can change.”

“No. We are, each of us, born with responsibilities. Even I am not free to choose to be other than I am. Nor is anyone.”

If anything, this only provided an answer to your inner query. Ever since the day you met him, you hadn't considered that his duties and what he embodied could be as heavy as a boulder to him. You knew he had to make exceedingly difficult, if not impossible, decisions. But what if, deep down, he wished to cast aside his metaphorical crown and hand over his realm to another?

“If that were true, why did all the other Dreams and Nightmares choose to leave this place when you had gone away?”

“Not all of us chose to leave, and nearly all have returned,” Lucienne finally interjected.

The creature turned to look at the librarian. “Do you think they came back out of love?” Then, once again, she redirected her focus to her creator. “Or because they were afraid of what you would do to them if they did not?”

You were cognizant of Morpheus' capacity for aloofness and command, and he had even admitted his past errors to you. But as inflexible as he could be, was it truly so erroneous to aim for maintaining proper order within his realm, if it also meant safeguarding the Waking World and its denizens?

“Because I am not afraid.”

You could sense the change in the atmosphere, which had abruptly become chilly and foreboding. Morpheus pivoted completely, fixing the Nightmare with a defiant glare. “You should be.”

You leaned forward just a bit more, taking care to remain unnoticed by any of them. It's quite humorous how you continually landed yourself in undesirable circumstances, which obliged you to stay concealed and listen in on others.

“A Nightmare’s purpose is to reveal a dreamer’s fears, that they may face them.”

You might have been wrong, but even from where you were, you noticed a reddish tint in his eyes. He was in pain.

And also, he was enraged.

His shadow started to shift, advancing along the stairs and extending out, stretching right towards where the Nightmare was positioned.

“Perhaps a few thousand years in the darkness will reveal your fears.”

The shadow made contact with her feet, and the moment it did, she began to pulverize and disappear. Her legs slimmed down, disintegrating like ash, and the rest of her body followed the same fate.

She was scared, but at the same time, she held his stare with bravery and pride.

And you could see that she was teetering on the edge of tears, burdened by the spectrum of missed opportunities.

“Better that than to make others afraid,” she said at the very end. “Even a Nightmare can dream, my lord.”

With widened eyes and a dropped jaw, you watched in sheer disbelief as the creature dissolved right before your sight. Morpheus stood as an image of defeat, quietly enduring the loss of one of his own creations.

“Even a Nightmare can dream.”

In your trance-like state, the only thought that surfaced was, blimey.

Even Lucienne was clearly distraught. How had things managed to escalate to this extent? Why did events have to take that horrific twist, landing Morpheus in such a tough spot? Why all the anguish, the torment, the catastrophe?

Only one name came to mind; Roderick freaking Burgess. What would the scenario be if Morpheus was never captured? If the Dreaming was never deserted, and if his subjects never abandoned their duties?

“You feel her punishment was unjust?”

The way Morpheus immediately sought Lucienne's approval with an expression akin to witnessing his raven’s murder once again (oh, you didn't even want to remember that, much less think about anything happening to Matthew) left you instantly heartbroken.

Lucienne contemplated her reply, then she freed her hands from their entwined position behind her back. “I used to be something else. Before you made me your librarian. We all chance, sir. Even you, perhaps. One day.”

Oh no.

His response was unsurprising. Even though his voice echoed gentleness and respect, you could perceive the bitterness lacing each word he spoke following that.

“Lucienne, I realize that in my absence, you were compelled to make decisions in my stead, and I am grateful to you.”

You sensed that a 'but' was forthcoming.

“But I am back now.” There it was. “You may return to the library.”

Ouch.

That was a lot to take in all at once, and given your empathetic nature, you rapidly absorbed the torrent of emotions floating in the atmosphere. You observed the sorrow in Lucienne's eyes, the despair of feeling obsolete to her King. She retreated with measured steps, leaving Morpheus standing rigid on the staircase.

The regret was unmistakable. His frequent blinking, the strain in his jaw, his hands curling into tight fists.

You let out a sigh, bumping your forehead against the column. If only you could do something, anything, to magically erase all that pain from their hearts. If only-

"I am sorry," he said unexpectedly. "I did not wish for you to witness that.”

Oh. Oh. Of course he was talking to you. You were in the Dreaming, right in the center of his dwelling. It was only to be expected that he would be aware of your presence in his castle, considering you were practically a whisker's breadth away.

With caution, you stepped out of your hiding spot, your gown trailing behind as you moved towards the King of Dreams. The fabric maintained its shimmer, harmoniously matching the cosmic ceiling overhead and the inner lining of his coat.

"I'm the one who should apologize," you declared. "I just wanted to see you, I didn't expect to end up here.”

The instant his eyes met yours, a flicker of astonishment and surprise colored his face. He watched you as if spellbound, descending the staircase to meet you midway. When you halted, merely inches from his face, you gave him one of those smiles he cherished the most.

You were clueless about the depth of his love for you in that moment, of how you looked every bit a queen, his queen, gracefully moving in your natural surroundings.

Your dream dresses were a mirror of your inner self, each more beautiful than the last.

"Wrong place at the wrong time, as we humans like to say," you continued. "Did you know I was here all along?”

“You thought I did not?”

“Touché.”

He lowered his tear-brimmed gaze, the tips of his cool fingers tentatively grazing yours."Are you not scared of me?”

It was difficult to fathom that he was still unsure, questioning the genuineness of your feelings for him. But upon reflection, you couldn't truly fault him.

You shook your head. "My love, I could never be afraid of you. You should know that by now.”

His hands were always so tender, so delicate, and yet so sturdy. His hands rested around your waist, only to glide upwards and adhere to your skin, the dress granting him an ample view of your back. He held you close against his chest, and you melted in his embrace.

“Do you not think Lucienne is correct? About change, about me?”

"Morpheus, I wouldn't want to change a thing about you. I think this entire matter should be handled with care, from all perspectives.”

He displayed a pouting expression, gently rubbing his forehead against yours. “I have my duties.”

“I know.”

And these obligations were eating him up from the inside. Encaged in a glass cell for a century, he neglected his realm and failed to guard the very humanity that triggered the destructionn of the Dreaming to start with. However, upon witnessing the magnitude of his role, you began to doubt whether his sacrifice was worth it. Ruling over the dream domain and protecting the mortal world shouldn't provoke such deep anguish. It was consuming him, devouring his essence.

"Don't be too harsh on Lucienne, though," you advised. "She's the most dedicated being I have ever met, but I’m sure you are aware of that.”

"I am.”

It was quite a shame that she had no clue of the magnitude of his high regard for her.

"You see, when you were still confined to that cage, I had a dream. It was one of my first experiences in this realm, and somehow, I found myself here. In this very same room.”

He listened quietly, his hands softly gliding down to your lower back.

"I was lost. Everything was in ruins, devoid of life. But Lucienne was here, aimlessly roaming the castle, and she found me. The sight of a human standing in the midst of your throne room took her by surprise, after such a long time.”

The way she sustained and persevered for over a century remained a mystery. She deserved a dedicated monument.

"She was so alone, Morpheus. She was waiting for you to return.”

None of his words were intended to diminish her. Lucienne held significant value to Morpheus, not only as a trustworthy librarian but also as a competent collaborator within his domain. He only adopted a defensive stance when the topic of change surfaced, a concept he struggled to grasp given the nature of his own existence.

"And, about the Nightmare you punished...”

“Gault.”

The fact that he still wished for her name to be acknowledged despite his conduct, did not elude your notice.

"I don’t know what happened, and if she did wrong you, it's in your rights to restore the original state of things. But... she appeared honest about her feelings, about her wish to become a Dream. Is there truly nothing you can do about it?”

For an instant, you were apprehensive that he might reproach you merely for daring to discuss matters you didn't completely understand.

But his eyes held nothing but tenderness for you. "Y/N, she was made to be a Nightmare. In order to make her into a Dream, she would need to be undone and recreated.”

"But isn't that a part of any creative process? Altering things that already exist, but no longer fulfill their original purpose?”

“It is different.”

Your smile broadened as you caressed his cheek. "I know that I can't compare what you do with my work in the Waking World. Your subjects have a function that accompanies humans through their personal journeys. But, consider this: everything we make, whether it be clothes, art, music, movies, or novels, it all influences us in one way or another.”

He furrowed his brows, mulling over your words and attempting to decipher the implications of your statement.

"Sometimes, an artist might choose to redraw an old piece to make it better. A writer might opt to remake an entire chapter if it doesn't align with their envisioned perfection A composer could discard a fresh song and reconstruct it from scratch just for that note they didn’t get right. An entire dress can be taken apart, mended, and redesigned.”

Your focus moved to the location where Gault had once been. You could still observe traces of smoke and ash spiraling around the room.

"Gault wasn’t a mistake, Morpheus. She just wanted to be understood, regardless of how wrong that might be.”

He stayed silent, tracing your line of sight as he swallowed.

"Ah, but I'm only human. So, what could I possibly know, right?”

And then, he flashed a small grin. It was almost unnoticeable, barely distinguishable, but just clear enough for you to catch it.

“No, you are observant. Your words are truly valuable.”

You weren't expecting him to affirm your truth, nor to retract the punishment imposed on Gault and reinstate her to her rightful place. But that was acceptable. Because you realized that Morpheus was not simply disregarding your viewpoints.

“You are valuable, too.”

You ran your nails along the collar of his coat, savoring the clear contact, the softness of the material.

"I need you to understand that you're not alone in this. You have Lucienne, Matthew. Even Able and Cain, despite the latter's rough character. And naturally, you have me.”

For him, it was tough to believe that a genuine support system existed behind him. Given all the trials he had to withstand, the burdens he shouldered away from others, and the solitary grief he faced after the loss of his son.

Even now, distancing himself from Lucienne and dispatching his creation into the darkest void, were not measures he felt particularly prideful or content about.

He smiled. "Having you by my side is more than I could ever hope for or deserve, my love.”

You craved him as much as you needed the blood flowing in your veins. You longed for the sound of his voice, so low, smooth, and resonant, his words overflowing with love and adoration for you.

He kissed you, slowly yet assertively, before pulling away and letting you go. But now that he had a moment of tranquility with you, as the day on the other side had just commenced, he wanted you to savor every last minute in the Dreaming, before you ventured back to your world and he proceeded with his investigations.

The final moments in the Dreaming had been unforgettable, with Morpheus guiding you through parts of the castle you hadn't yet explored. But before you fully succumbed to the pre-awakening haze, you chose to contradict your prior decision and confessed that the Corinthian was, in fact, in Cape Kennedy.

The realization that his nightmare had encountered you for a second time, unbeknownst to him and with all the potential dangers it could entail, inevitably sent Morpheus’ mood spiraling downwards all over again. For a moment, you feared that he might harbor resentment towards you for not summoning him at that time. However, when you explained how cunning the Corinthian had been by choosing to meet you in a public place filled with mortals, the Endless pronounced that you had acted prudently.

Morpheus also confirmed that the Corinthian had evidently been drawn by the Vortex herself. That also signified that, should he locate her, things could potentially escalate to an irreversible point for all of you. Therefore, he tried to convince you to head back home, with the aim of keeping you shielded from both Rose's power and the Nightmare's grasp.

Regrettably, you had to reject his suggestion, as your work was far too important for you to merely abandon it. Morpheus attempted to argue, but eventually, he let the topic rest. He made a solemn promise to utilize all his resources and abilities to ensure your safety, insisting that you alert him immediately should anything unusual, or even remotely dangerous, occur in your presence.

Admittedly, having Morpheus concerned for you amidst all that he was grappling with did make you feel quite guilty. Nevertheless, there was no way you could leave Andrew in the middle of the project without a valid excuse. Morpheus understood the amount of effort you had invested in establishing your current career, and the last thing he wanted was for you to lose all that you had achieved.

By the time you woke up, everyone else was already bustling about town attending to their own affairs. The only exception was Lyta who, conversely, was strangely sick and confined to her room, not making an appearance even once.

You seized that day off as a chance to recuperate, with the lingering effects of jet lag still draining you, and the remnants of your tumultuous night further exhausting you. It was approximately lunch time when you noticed Rose crossing the threshold, her fatigued, baffled expression indicating that something was drastically amiss.

"Rose?”

"Oh, Y/N, hi," she said in a distracted manner. "Is Lyta still in her room?”

"I believe so, she was feeling under the weather earlier when I knocked. But, on that note, are you okay?”

Rose shook her head, offering a feeble smile. "I don’t even know, to be honest.”

You could only speculate that what kept her outdoors that morning was linked to her brother Jed. Clearly, things didn't pan out as she had hoped.

"Come on. let's talk," you encouraged her, softly draping your arm around her shoulders and ushering her upstairs.

"Oh, there's no need to, I mean-”

"Yes, Rose. There is," you corrected. "There's something I need to share with you.”

You were aware that Morpheus would have preferred to keep you as distant as possible from everything the girl embodied, but you couldn't just ignore her when she looked so afflicted.

And despite her apparent eagerness to retreat to her room, she consented, trailing behind you and stepping into your chamber without any protest.

You let her settle on your bed, which was still partly unkempt, and you took a seat next to her. "Firstly, tell me what happened."

You noticed her hesitation, stumbling over her words. "Well, I actually found Jed. I went there because I wanted to speak to his foster parents, to see him, and possibly bring him home with me.”

"Let me guess, they didn't permit you to.”

She sighed. "Even worse.”

“Worse?”

"Y/N, I... I went there and the police were swarming all around the house. I found out that the couple is dead, and Jed is nowhere to be found.”

Out of all the things you thought she might say, that was definitely not one of them.

“Wait, what?!”

"I know, it's insane!”

"But, do they know how they died? Was it an accident? Were they killed in their own home?”

How could she be so close to reuniting with her brother after so many years, only to have him slip even further away?

Right then and there, your intuition flared up more intensely than before. Something was undeniably wrong. What were the odds of that happening?

"I have no idea. The police didn't want to disclose any information. I wasn't even allowed near the house.”

You gently placed your hand on her back, moving it up and down in a comforting motion. "I'm so sorry Rose. The silver lining is that he wasn't there, so he's at least unharmed. Right?”

"But now, I don't even know where to start looking.”

What kind of comfort could you give her in a situation like that?

"Y/N, you said there was something you wanted to tell me. But... could you answer a question for me?”

“Of course.”

She pressed her lips together, staring at you with a hint of apprehension. “"Are you real? I mean, you're human, right? I'm not just imagining you.”

You laughed. "I am very much real, I assure you.”

"It's just... you were in my dream. I met you before actually seeing you in real life.”

You nodded. “You did.”

"So... how...?”

You clasped her hand, which felt somewhat cold and trembly. She appeared so fragile and delicate, how could she contain such a potent power capable of not only shattering the Dreaming, but also penetrating its walls and affecting the Waking World?

"Rose, I'm sure you know the answer to that.”

She blinked a few times, permitting you to gently squeeze her hand. “I think so. And you?”

She was testing the waters, probing to see what you might potentially know or be oblivious of.

You couldn't find any valid reason to not tell the truth about it.

“Yes, Rose. I know you are the Vortex.”

For a moment, she appeared flabbergasted, not really anticipating your forthrightness. She stood, pacing back and forth a few times, only to raise her voice in desperation.

"Who are you, really? What's going on?”

Her outburst was more than justifiable. She was separated from brother when she was a teenager, never having the chance to see him ever since. Then, her mother passed away just before she could uncover the true nature residing within her, which could endanger her life, due to the need to eliminate any direct threat against an Endless' realm.

It was unfair, you thought to yourself. She deserved better than what life had dealt her.

"I'm simply Y/N,” you replied. “A human being just like you. Nothing more and nothing less.”

“But how do you know I’m the Vortex?”

Was it even permissible for you to divulge your relationship with Morpheus? Could you be open about your association with his realm?

In the end, you carefully opted to omit the major details.

"I am acquainted with the King of Dreams."

"You know Lord Morpheus?”

“Yes. Very well in fact.”

She returned to the mattress, allowing her body to slump onto it like a sack of potatoes. Her eyes clamped shut, and she took a deep inhalation, only to exhale it out.

"Rose, I wish I could tell you more about why or how you became a Vortex, but not even Morpheus himself has an explanation. All I can say to you is that you need to be careful.”

"All I do is sleep, and all of a sudden I'm in everyone's dream.”

How dreadful it must feel, to intrude upon your friends' subconscious and probe their minds against their will.

"You haven't come across a man with blond hair and dark round sunglasses, have you?”

"No, not that I can recall," she specified. “Why?”

With Matthew keeping a watchful eye on her during the day, you knew that she at least had some form of protection from the Dream Lord. But was that truly sufficient to keep the Nightmare at a safe distance from her?

You couldn't afford to give her one more cause for alarm. She couldn't find out about that creature tailing her, aiming to use her Vortex abilities to annihilate the Dreaming and take complete control over humanity. It was such a hefty load for you alone, understanding how dark and warped the minds of mortals could be and how readily they could be remolded.

For the moment, you wanted her to concentrate solely on her brother, who seemed to be entirely missing, if not kidnapped by someone malevolent for all you knew.

"Let's just hope it never comes to that.”

You blinked a few times, clearing the haze from your brain, as you peered into the distance at what appeared to be a barren wasteland, gloomy and parched. It was dark and cold, reminiscent of a swamp.

What was that place, and why did it evoke a sense of déjà vu?

You glanced around, took a few steps forward, and inhaled the aroma of earth and decaying vegetation. Nothing was there apart from some patches of mud, scattered algae and rocks that either looked shattered or flipped over.

"Yep, I'm afraid so.”

A voice from behind caused you to startle, but when you spun on your feet, nobody was there except for a deer, watching you with a pair of large, glossy black eyes.

"What...?”

"Oh come on. Don't say you don't remember me.”

You were completely disoriented, unable to even recall your own name. But then, as time progressed and the gears in your mind kicked back into action, everything fell back into place.

You knelt down, gently patting the deer's head. "Of course I remember you. I'm sorry, it took me a moment to realize I was dreaming. I must have dozed off on the couch...”

The animal smiled. "Eh, it happens sometimes. No big deal. But I'm glad you're back. Things are really getting messy over here.”

“Messy? What do you mean?”

The deer's expression morphed into one of puzzlement. "Are you serious? Can't you see the state of this place?”

"I do see it," you responded. "Where exactly are we? I know this is the Dreaming, but...”

"Y/N," the deer advanced. "You know where you are.”

That proclamation sent a chill down your spine, and as soon as you looked up, attempting to detect any sign of what the deer was referring to, the surroundings trembled and shook violently. You heard the loud noise of something fracturing, splitting apart. And then you saw it, the same crack from your nightmare, widening and branching out. It continued to broaden, wildly seizing the landscape around you.

The deer was correct, you knew exactly where you were. Merely contemplating it caused your heart to plummet, and your stomach to coil into a painful knot, tugging from every direction.

Without a shadow of a doubt, you were in the Beach Land. Except now, it was just land, bereft of beach, water, and signs of life.

“No… please tell me this isn’t real. Tell me this is another nightmare.”

The deer sighed. "It is a nightmare, in a sense. But I'm afraid this is simply what the Dreaming is starting to look like. All of it.”

You slumped onto the ground, letting your arms hang limply at your sides. "The Vortex did this?”

“I assume so.”

Was your proximity to Rose that late morning in any way accountable for such a significant, vital part of your dream life, to be completely eradicated? Or had she caused such a disruption recently that your nightmare delivered the final blow?

You didn't have the time to figure out an answer, because another earthquake rattled everything again. It was fierce, horrifying, and certainly not something you wanted to see worsen any further.

"You need to leave," the deer told you. "Exit this place before it's too late.”

"But this is a dream, right? Nothing can physically harm me here.”

"That's not the main problem. If the Vortex strengthens, you could be disconnected from this land, if not the Dreaming itself.”

“What??”

Could it really be possible that Rose accidentally set off something so grave? You dismissed the thought; the idea of losing the Dreaming was unbearable. Morpheus. Lucienne. Abel and Cain. Goldie. How could you ever bear to be separated from them all, from the love of your life?

"Go, Y/N. Wake up now. Or else he'll never forgive me.”

He?

“Wait, did you-”

“ሠ𐌀ኡ𐌄 𐌵የ!”

Your eyes flew open, and all you could see was the ceiling of Hal's B&B main hall. No peculiar noises, no tremors of the earth. But you, on the other hand, were profoundly rattled, your heart pounding fiercely in your chest.

And that, wasn't even the full extent of what you were about to confront.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 19 (coming soon) ->

[sakebytheriver]

Thoughts on the Abbott sunny crossover now that it's actually out

Hello, my beloved mutual, whom I adore

Before we begin, I would just like to set the stage for the environment I was in when I saw this ask, on January 8th, 2025, first off, I live in LA so there were fires raging around us and I'm watching a live news coverage of the fires, decide to check my tumblr notes because what else can I do in this situation, see your ask, get excited about the episode right before seeing a collumn of smoke outside my window fairly nearby all things considered, I go to tell my roommate about the suspiciously fire shaped orange lights underneath the smoek collumn off in the distance, we worry about evacuation once more, before once again deciding to remain where we are and he suggests we play some Wii and I say "yeah let's!" I turn on our tv and it loads the roku menu right off the bat, so I think of your ask and say to my roommate "wait let's watch this random sitcom crossover episode first" he humors me and my excitement over this meaningless sitcom crossover, one of the shows he has not watched, you see, he has no knowledge of It's Always Sunny nor my unhealthy relationship to the fictional character Charles Kellyford, I pull up Abott Elementary on Hulu and I see the new episode and I click on it. Nothing occurs. I click again. Once more Nothing, my roommate sees the label above the epsiode,

"Available January 9th at 2AM"

I.

was.

Devestated.

We then proceeded to have problems plugging in our Wii while we watched that fire in the distance from our window, but we played Wii sports for several hours before said fire died down and we both proceeded to make our own individual frozen pizzas

Crossover episode still several hours away from availability, roommate's eye now slightly damaged from Wii sports incident

...

Ok. Here i am, many many hours later, because I took some benadryl and passed out before 2AM and I have now watched the crossover

First thoughts: I like it! 😁

I had fun, I think they did a pretty good job of making it feel like an Abbott Elementary episode that just so happened to have Sunny characters plopped in, like a version of It's Always Sunny but from the point of view of the people the gang interacts with, but with the added benefit of those messed with characters having several seasons of a show and emotional connection built between them and the audience in a way one episode side characters would never be able to accomplish. Using the Abbott characters we all love to give a little taste of what it's like to be on the other side of that interaction with It's Always Sunny gang and see just how baffling and chaotic these random strangers with criminal records and lots of issues can be when they just somehow show up in your life all of a sudden. I do think it was a little congested and the pacing was pretty rapid fire, but they were trying to combine two entire sitcom casts and they have to give every character something to do in only the span of twenty minutes, these constraints were to be expected and I was preparing for much worse truly

I think they did a good job of combining characters and finding the right combinations of It's Always Sunny characters to work with the Abbott characters,

Mr. Johnson and Frank should probably just have their own spinoff at this point, like I wanna see those two go out together on a Saturday night so bad, it would be disgisting, but it would also be glorious

Dee and Janine was honestly so bigbrained of them, like of course they'd click before Dee blows it up because Greg's a hunk that's a totally on point Dee move right there

Mac and Ava was something I did not see coming and honestly? I wish Abbott could be just like a little more problematic so we could have had like Mac at his gayest with Ava going full fag hag. Like those two at the club???? The power would be unmatched and you all know it

There's definitely a plot in here somewhere with Mac and Jacob recognizing each other at The Rainbow now and I've gotta wonder how low into his rock bottom will Jacob need to get to actually drink enough to go home with Mac

And of course, my boy, my skrunkle, the blorbo that ruined my life Charlie Kelly, I'm so proud of him and I'm so glad he ultimately learned Nothing, because my boy is nothing if he's not stupid ☺️❤️ Barbara, Melissa, and Jacob being the ones to teach him was also just like so, 'yeah that makes sense', of course Jacob would notice Charlie's illiteracy and then of course he'd go to Melissa and Melissa would go to Barbara and the three of them would turn Charlie into their pet project of the day as they do when those three put their heads together. Jacob's like their over eager son who comes up to them with his newest fixation of the day and they roll their eyes at him before ultimately joining his quest, I also love the fact that they all seemingly put their classes on hold and brought them to the library just to watch this criminal adult read a book about birds

I liked how they had Dennis avoid the cameras, it was in character and was also a great way to decongest the screen a bit, I'm guessing they had him hide so that in the It's Always Sunny version of the crossover we'll follow Dennis and what he's doing behind the scenes (I hope they show a camera guy on screen and Dennis hiding from him, like I can just imagine a camera guy walking past a little alcove and then Dennis slides out the second after he's off screen in that slippery snake way he does), have him talk about how they need to get out of there while Charlie says he likes it here because he's learning to read, Dee says she has to stay long enough to get Greg to fall in love with her, Frank says he's staying long enough to prove that no good Mr. Johnson wrong, and Mac says he's doing everything he can sucking up to Ava and if Dennis would just Help Him they could get out of there sooner. And then Dennis calls them all a bunch of insults in his Dennis way before coming up with his own overly complicated and ultimately unsuccessful plan to get them out of their community service, maybe he's responsible for that random ass graduation ceremony they had for Charlie as a part of his big scheme or something, because honestly, man, what was that?? 😭

Ultimately I think it was pretty good, like I said the biggest issues were the congestion and the pacing, but considering the time crunch and the number of characters it could have been much much worse, I definitely think there were a lot of plot threads and stories they only just touched the surface of and maybe the Sunny side of the crossover will delve deeper into the stuff they set up in this episode, but it just feels like they were trying really hard to cram a lot of stuff into one episode and if they had been given a second one, been able to make this a two-part Abbott special I think all of the congestion and pacing issues would be resolved so easy, but as it stands it's still a very well executed episode/story 😁

I'm excited for the Sunny side of the crossover, I want to see the other point of view now, like the premise of these crossovers are basically "The Best People in Philly Meet The Worst People in Philly" and I've gotta know what those awful awful people think of all those goody two shoes 😂

[soullikethesea]

After lying awake for two nights worrying about everything, I think I won't be the right person adopting the lovely kitty. :(

Apparently it is time for me to have a bit of a mid-life crisis. Seriously, I wasn't prepared for the insomnia, anxiety and IBS.

I know a cat would make me very, very happy. Together is always better than alone! But I also think that I need to feel free to seek out connections outside of the home, strengthen relationships. Be away from home most of the time, without feeling guilty.

Apparently I do think I would like to have a child some day. And that day would have to come within the next 10 years. And I also would like to try to buy a house at some point, maybe in five years. And it would be lovely to go for a big trip at some point, since I've never been outside of Europe before.

So all of those things speak against adopting a cat, even when the loneliness and touch-starvation are really getting to me. It feels so empty within my home. There is a sense of calmness, but no joy. I would like to have a joyful home and I know a cat would add that spark. I also know that I would take good care of a cat.

But I would hate to disrupt her life, just because I got a different job, different house, relationship or child. And if those things are going to happen, it would probably be within the next 10 years.

It's that, or I'm just terrified of attachment. I don't know. I know that I spent 4 hours crying yesterday, because I felt so conflicted. I felt like a little girl. I called my dad, my godmother and my mum. I basically never do that. In yoga class I cried for half of the class (thankfully no one noticed, I'm good at silently crying). I could feel that my heart was very open. I feel so so so damn lonely, you guys.

At some point we were in a twist and the teacher explained that your legs are running off towards the future, but you are looking back, and your heart is in the present. She said the pose is all about finding the balance.

I feel like I am frozen emotionally. Now my heart is open and the tears are hot, but normally I am subdued and frozen. Always trying to mitigate risk.

And deciding not to adopt is another frozen decision. That's the other side of the coin.

But if I adopt the cat it feels like I'm committing to more years alone, not moving, not going out as much. I'm sure it would be fine, but it'd be another path. I need more clarity before deciding to go down there.

Deciding not to adopt will not increase my quality of life. I will continue to be lonely and touch-starved. But maybe it will allow me to live guilt-free these next few years.

[erikiara80]

Stranger Things and Wayward Pines parallels

I started watching Wayward Pines after @chirpsythismorning made this post, and I'm sure other people have already talked about it. The Duffers co-produced that show and also wrote some episodes.

Here some of the parallels that intrigue me the most. There will be spoilers, of course.

Wayward Pines is set in 4028-4032. An ambitious scientist, David Pilcher, discovers that the human DNA is mutating, so he and his sister Pam come up with a plan to save humanity. Pilcher builds a town, abducts a few selected, puts them in cryo hibernation, and then they all sleep for centuries, while the world collapses and a process of evolution mutates the human race into Abbies (Abberations)

First thing I noticed: many characters say that they woke up in Wayward Pines after a car accident, including the main character, Ethan Burke, a Secret Service Agent who was investigating the disappearance of two federal agents.

This makes me think about my theory that everything changed after a car chase/accident in 1976, here and here.

Hell and "Paradise"

Pilcher tells Ethan the truth about their little town: "You didn't think Wayward Pines ran itself, did you?"

Owens: "You didn't think we were working out of a shed, did you?" (In Wayward Pines, they find a tunnel system under a shed)

There are some very interesting parallels between Pilcher and his sister, Nurse Pam, and Brenner and Terry. We'll see if there's some surprise about Terry, if she was really just a student, or there's something more.

I always thought that this photo hinted at something, a deeper connection between Mama and Papa. Like the two Bonsai Trees books in Terry's house and Brenner's bonsai in S4 seem to imply.

When Pam starts to have doubts about their project, David orders her to be put back into cryo-suspension.

Pam gives Theresa a key card to help her find answers. Henry gives El a key card, too.

CJ plays chess, like Henry and El. For centuries CJ was the custodian of all the frozen, sleeping people in the mountain. He would wake up periodically for a brief period of time, to make sure that systems were online and that the facility was well cared for, and then he would go back to sleep himself. Every time he wakes up, he plays chess and talks to his girlfriend, but she's not really there...

And then there is Jason Higgins, who definitely makes me think about Henry Creel. Jason is the "chosen one", the kid that was raised by the Pilcher siblings to become the leader of Wayward Pines and what is left of humanity. He always felt different, he wanted to explore new lands...

Henry becoming an explorer.

And then this. In The First Shadow there are creepy vibes between Henry and his mother, and in S3 Robin and Steve talk about Back to the future and Lorraine being attracted to her own son, Marty.

Jason is in a relationship with Kerry Campbell, but he doesn't know that she is actually his mother! This is possible because he was awakened from cryo-sleep and grew up, while Kerry kept sleeping. Also, Pilcher lied about his family. He wanted to adopt Jason, the son of a pregnant student, but when she lost the baby, Pilcher and his sister adopted Kerry's baby.

So, we also have something similar to the "babies switched at birth" thing that has been hinted a lot on Stranger Things. In the newspaper article in 1x08, Terry's story is Joyce's story, word by word, so...

I will make a post about Back to future and the possible meaning of Steve and Robin's dialogue about Lorraine being attracted to her son, and Steve not calling Fox's character Marty, but Alex P. Keaton, another character played by Fox. There's a lot to say!

Anyway, on Stranger Things, the characters have said that something's wrong (Nancy to Murray: "Your timeline is wrong", and Hopper in the play: "My timeline is off") So, IF they are stuck in a time loop and we're dealing with many timelines, there could be some big surprise, even something similar to the Jason-Kerry plot twist. Similar, not the same.

[nknoxe-n]

hi!!! omg i love (blue lock) matchups so when i saw that u we’re doing one i couldn’t resist hehe ^^

i’m an pisces (or isfj if mbti is better) and i think i’m a pretty awkward person ö i over share a lot in uncomfortable environments but ive gotten a lot better at socializing with ppl i don’t know that well. i loveee to do charcoal drawings specifically still lifes or reproductions bc i lowk suck at doing anything original ^^; i play the sims TOO much, like recently hit 1100 hours

i loveee to dress girly i don’t wear pants, usually skirts and dresses only, and i have a super complex nighttime routine. i go to bed at 8 and wake up at 5 and my friends make fun of me for it all the time :,( despite liking traditionally feminine things i suck at sewing, baking, and cooking. ive burnt a frozen pizza before. i try to keep an open mindset with hobbies but domestic stuff is noottt my thing. i mostly value intelligence in romantic partners and sense of humor!! i think im a nice person but sometimes i can be a little mean, so somebody who isnt offended easily either. i love these events TYSM <3

Your Blue Lock Matchup: Yoichi Isagi

When I think about someone who could perfectly complement your personality, Yoichi Isagi comes to mind. He's empathetic and adaptable, which makes him the ideal match for someone who’s working on socializing and their own awkwardness. Isagi thrives on connection and understanding, which means he’d never judge you for oversharing or feeling uncomfortable in certain situations. Instead, he’d actively listen and offer the kind of reassurance that puts you at ease. He has a knack for making people feel seen and appreciated, and that’s exactly the kind of energy you deserve in a partner.

Your love of art would captivate Isagi. He has a deep appreciation for dedication and effort people put into their passions, and you would inspire him, even if he's never really been an art guy himself, not that he doesn't like in, no, Isagi loves art he's just never been good at it without instructions. Even if you’re self-conscious about not being “original,” Isagi would be your biggest supporter, reminding you that talent shines in all forms. He’d probably sit by your side, watching you draw with fascination, and ask questions about your process.

Your 1100+ hours of Sims gameplay?(Sorry this is insane btw holy that's a lot, as someone who plays the sims I'm impressed) He might tease you about it at first, but secretly, he’d love watching you design houses and create drama for your virtual families. He’s the type of person who’d be down to play alongside you, even if he doesn’t understand all the mechanics. He'd try and recreate his own family in the Sims, including himself, and then he'd attempt to make you as well.

Your girly, feminine style would absolutely charm Isagi. He’s a guy who appreciates beauty in the little things. Your nighttime routine would impress him, since I think he's always wanted to try skincare before, but he simply never got into it beyond a moisturizer and facial cleanser. He also keeps a rather well maintained sleep schedule, making sure your time together fits seamlessly into your routine.

When it comes to domestic hobbies like sewing, baking, or cooking, Isagi wouldn’t mind your mishaps at all. He’d be the kind of partner who laughs it off with you. Isagi himself can cook, he learned from his mother early on, and I believe this to the high heavens because he is a walking green flag, he'd love to teach you how to cook or bake since he has the basics down.

Most importantly, Isagi aligns with your values as a partner. He’s highly intelligent, both on and off the field, and his sharp thinking would keep you engaged and intrigued. His sense of humour, though subtle, is quick and clever, and he’d know just how to make you laugh, and he loves making you laugh, your smile is probably one of his favourite things ever. If you’re in a mood where you might come off as a little mean, Isagi wouldn’t be fazed, I mean, have you seen how he handles some of his more gruff teammates? His even temperament and ability to laugh things off would make him a perfect match for someone who needs a partner who doesn’t take things too personally.